Spirit Fading
by pyrrhic victory
Summary: Everything he had was taken from him. Everything he had ever taken for granted was ripped from his paws. Saved from death by a ship full of pirates, he only wanted to go home. The problem was that his home no longer existed.
1. Default Chapter

He ran. Ran through the rain, through the forest, through his doubt and his denial. Air burned his throat, and his ribs ached fiercely, but he ran on. The deep wound in his stomach screamed relentlessly, and the brief bandage that had been tied around it was soaked in blood, but he ran. Ran because he knew he had no other choice and because he knew there would be no point in staying.

His honor demanded his return, but all that would achieve was execution or, worse, enslavement. Freedom had a stronger call than honor, and he followed it faithfully, but he missed his honor. After all, all his life he had been commended for it, and now he was abandoning it. With every pace he raced, more honor seeped from him, but he could not bring himself to stop. Green-gray eyes burned with bitter tears that were never shed.

A moment should be spared for that wound on his stomach. It was dangerous; it could be killing him. He didn't know. Never before had he been wounded so seriously. He was afraid that if he stopped to look he would come to realize that there was no hope, that he would die, and that all of this was for nothing. So he didn't stop. Every movement was agony, but stopping could have been so much worse.

He ran until he couldn't remember what it was like to be able to breathe. His eyes ached as if they were rusting in their sockets, and his mouth and throat begged for water. But he did not stop running. More than anything, he did not want to be caught and taken back. Death by torture had to be worse than this. It _had_ to be…didn't it?

He turned his weary face towards the setting sun, knowing there was a large river that led to the ocean in the west, and forced himself onward.

Time lost its meaning to an otter in constant, agonizing motion. If there was no beginning, and no ending, was there a middle? No past. No future. No present. Just leap after bound after staggering, broken step. Never stopping. Never slowing. It was amazing how strong he had never known he was. But fear and panic turned out to be very compelling when there was nothing left to cling to.

The sun had long set when he finally came to a stop. Water reached up to meet him, and he staggered another step before slipping on the uneven ground and falling backwards. He lay sprawled, without the energy to stand or even sit up, staring blankly at the black sky. His eyes blinked closed once, twice, and he decided that if he was going to die, this was not such a bad way for it too happen. There was only the scream of his ribs, his legs, and his stomach. A bitter numbness had long ago settled over his mind, blocking out every thought that could have possibly caused pain. It seemed almost peaceful. Almost like he was just fading from the world, and the world was letting him go. A beautiful way to die.

Right before unconsciousness carried him off towards an undeserved peace, his tired half-open eyes caught sight of white sails. A single, terrified thought entered his mind but was promptly silenced as he entered a dead faint.

…

_Celebration. Smiles. Laughter. Such a happy, happy place. He stood up on the walls, staring out on the world. Such a beautiful, terrible place. Such anger and such love. Such failure and such redemption. So much to do._

"_Oy. What're you doin' up here, mate? There's a party, you know."_

"_Obviously." _

"_You can't **seriously** be standin' guard. We haven't been attacked in **seasons**! Since before we were born! What? Is the grass gettin' a little too rowdy for your likin'?"_

"_Someone has to be up here."_

"_Well, might as well let you mope up here on your own then. Idiot."_

_A nice day. A little too hot for perfection, and a little too windy for it to be pleasant. _

_But it was the wind that saved his life._

_The spear that should have hit him in the side and gone halfway through him was nudged off course and ripped the fur and skin off his stomach. Stumbling, unsure, confused, he tripped. And he fell._

_Cubs jumped off the walls on dares. He had done it hundreds of times. The walls were built so that the defenders could leap down without major injury. But he landed on his back, and the collision killed his consciousness._

_When he came to, he was covered in blood and, vermin were all around him. Screams and growls filled the air, along with the shrieks of steel. They must have thought him dead, because several other dead were piled on top of him. _

_He didn't think, really. He crawled out from under them, saw the bloody mess made of his stomach and touched the wound gently. The skin peeled back easily. His vision swam and what was left of his stomach threatened to rebel. He stumbled to his feet and, panicked and terrified, he fled through the open gates. It didn't occur to him, for a while, that he was abandoning his home._

_He was running. Running. Running and screaming and dying. And it was too much. Too much. He fell._

_Fell._

_Hit the ground again. Blood sprayed and light green eyes dulled. He gasped, tasting blood, and…and…something **shifted**._

"_You didn't die." A voice. A strange, unfamiliar voice. "And you won't die here."_

_Blood in his mouth, on his teeth. Running down his throat._

"_You won't die for seasons."_

_Eyes closing slowly; lungs fighting desperately._

"_But…maybe you'll wish you'd died here."_

_Coughing, choking. He turned his head to the side and blood came pouring out of his mouth. It somehow got in his eyes. It burned. It **burned**._

"_Sleep. Stop this. You need to sleep."_

_Fire in his stomach, a ripping, screaming pain in his lungs. He was dying. Dying. **Dying**._

"_**Sleep**."_

_Dying. **Dying**. _

_And he deserved it all._

…

"Is he dead?" Zai asked tremulously, blue eyes wide, the dawn coloring the sky behind her.

"Well, _I've_ got no idea." Carden replied, shrugging his broad shoulders indifferently. "Why don't you kick 'im, and make sure?"

"_Kick him_?" Zai gasped, those blue eyes somehow managing to grow even wider.

"Oh, calm down. I wasn't _serious_." Carden rolled brown eyes. "Look. Let's get 'im back to the ship and see what the prince says. 's not my responsibility to know if creature's 're dead or not."

"But…but can't you _tell_?"

Carden sighed and kneeled down next to the otter. He felt for a pulse, found one, and then looked up at her. "'e's alive right _now_, at least his heart is beatin', but that doesn't mean he's gonna live past sunset. The prince'll know what to do, an' if he don't, then the doctor will."

"But he's going to live?" Zai asked, her tone desperately hopeful. She was the one who had found him and seemed to feel somehow responsible for him.

Carden looked up at her and sighed again. "Look, cub, I've got no _idea_ if he'll live or not. With that kind of cut, I can tell you probably not. If he does, he'll be weak for half a season. The prince probably won't wanta mess with that."

"What do you mean?" Wide, wide blue eyes.

Carden did not like explaining life to children. It was not his job. "I _mean_ that the prince probably won't wanta deal with a creature who won't be anything but a hindrance for half a season, maybe more. He'll probably have us pitch 'em overboard."

Wide, wide _teary_ blue eyes. "Wha-_What_?"

"Aw, look, drowning's a lot easier than most beasts say it is, and-"

Zai took off, bawling at the top of her lungs, sprinting with all the strength and urgency of a panicking cub for the ship. Carden rolled his eyes, shook his head, and picked the unconscious otter up gently. Wouldn't help matters to injure the otter more. Unless he planned to kill him. A broken neck would take all the blame off the prince and the doctor…and Zai could strike guilt into the most cold-hearted with those day-long sob fests of hers.

But…but Carden had left the days of killing unarmed and unconscious beasts long ago. It was the prince, in fact, who had brought him away from it. And the otter was young. Almost as young as Zai. Carden didn't like killing young things. Always seemed so unfair.

…

Kydin was up halfway up to the crow's nest when Zai was brought on board. She came running across the deck, screaming and sobbing so hard no one could understand a word she said. Immediately, the squirrel twins went off in search of Carden, and Kydin came down quickly, jumping from a safe distance to land gently on the wooden deck.

Zai, her pitch becoming even higher, saw him and ran straight for him. About a pace away she jumped and Kydin found himself being clutched around the middle by a tiny mouse whose legs did not even reach the ground. "**_Carden said-and then-and I don't want him to DIE_**!" Zai shrieked the first discernable words since her arrival on the ship.

Kydin stared down at the mouse clutching at his stomach and sighed, prying her off gently to hold her as far away from him as he could. She sniffled and rubbed at her nose, staring at him with teary, accusing eyes. "Zai, I need you to tell me if Carden is all right."

"Carden's **_fine_**!" She announced, sounding a bit annoyed at the very idea of it.

"Good. That's good." Kydin tried to keep his tone even, calming. But he was not a parent. He was not even an older brother. "Now. Tell me what's got you so upset."

"I found him!" She cried. "I found him, and you're _not throwing him off the ship_!"

Kydin blinked. "Found who?"

"_The otter_!" A tear streaking down an outraged face.

"Why would I throw an otter off my ship?"

"Because he's _hurt_!"

"Hurt? How badly is he hurt?"

"_You're not drowning him_! _I **won't let you**_!" Zai went into hysterics and started beating her little fists against his arms.

"_Aderyn_!" Kydin yelled. "Find Aderyn!"

The doctor arrived a full minute later, looking very much displeased. "What is it?" She demanded and then saw Zai, who by now had exhausted herself into vengeful fits of hiccups and tears. Immediately she swept the cub out of his grasp, and Kydin nodded his thanks.

"Any orders?" The first mate, Vix, inquired, as he stared curiously towards land.

"No." Kydin shook his head. "Carden will get here with the twins and then we'll get out of here. Get ourselves out to sea."

"All because of an otter?"

Kydin glanced at him, blue-gray eyes annoyed. "A _wounded_ otter. You know this place as well as I do. Even if it's not as bad as it sounds like it is, they'll be coming out for revenge, and we're not exactly friendly with 'em."

"You don't think…" There was a pause, and then the mouse continued. "Could _he_ really have conquered _them_?"

"Easily. But they could have easily conquered _him_. They're not to be trifled with. Either side. We're leaving."

"What do we do with this otter?"

"Same as we do with every idiot we find that might be able to pay a decent reward." Kydin shrugged. "We try to save him. If we can't, though…I won't be crying over his corpse."

Vix snorted and nodded. "Of course."

…

_Dying. Still dying. How long could you die? Wasn't it supposed to be a short thing?_

_**Get me out of here. I don't want to be here. Let me go.**_

_Choking, sputtering. Blood dripping from a gaping mouth. Dry eyes screaming for moisture._

_**What is this place? I want to go home. I want to go home. I was supposed to die at home.**_

_Guts hanging out from the wound now._

_**Don't look or you'll vomit again**._

_Paws bloody from an attempt to hold his guts in his body._

_**So long ago. Why won't this ever stop?**_

_Helpless as his stomach rebelled again. How could he vomit when he was holding his stomach in his paws? How could that be possible?_

_**How is anything possible? Don't think. Just die. Die already. Let this end!**_

_A light. A light? When had it gone dark? Why was there light?_

_**I don't want light. I just want to die.**_

_A voice. From so far away it was indecipherable. But a voice. A voice! He wasn't alone. He wouldn't die alone!_

…

"He's gonna live, all right." Aderyn announced eight days and several hours after Zai found the otter near the river. "I don't know how. By rights be should've died eight nights ago, but he'll live."

Kydin nodded, rubbing at his eyes. The otter still didn't look all that good. "Looks like he's about to die."

"Just bruising, most of it. And most of it's goin' away. The stomach wound'll take a while to heal."

"How long?"

"I don't know." Aderyn snapped. "It's impossible to predict how long _exactly_."

"Do you have a guess?"

"Of course I have a _guess_, but I'm not gonna be able to explain it to you. You'd never understand."

Kydin blinked at her. "Excuse me?"

Aderyn held her ground for a minute, which was a record for her after an eight day marathon of only sleeping for three hours at a time whenever one of the twins could be spared. But then her dark eyes lowered, and she scowled like a rebellious adolescent. "Look, _sir_, I've had a rather trying time lately and I'd appreciate it if you-"

"If I what?" A quiet, dangerous little tone. He often found it useful.

Aderyn's eyes flashed at the floor. "Sir, my patient is-"

"Asleep."

"And I would really like to be asleep too." She snapped, tossing her head back to glare at him.

He considered it. Weighed his options. But Aderyn was always like this. Rebellious. Angry. Defiant. She'd lived a delirious sort of life, being a slave for half of it and hated to bow to anything. Besides, she was tired. He'd let it go, but only because no one else was around.

"Then go sleep, doctor." Kydin suggested quietly.

Aderyn fled and Kydin settled on the chair beside the bed, eyes sliding half-way closed. The otter had woken them all screaming a night or two ago. Aderyn had been optimistic about the whole thing, saying at least he could yell now. Kydin had been less pleasant, and Carden had been willing to strangle the otter in his bed, despite Zai's wailing. Whoever this otter was, he did not bring peace. Even the twins had become morbid and subdued. No one liked having a stranger onboard. Especially a stranger who arrived so wounded. Something had happened to him, that much was obvious, and very few wanted to be around when he woke up.

…

The otter woke up screaming. It was a strange feeling and one he did not want to repeat. Almost immediately the face of a tired, concerned squirrel appeared, and she gave him such a look of weak worry and compassion that he silenced himself quite promptly. Why was he screaming, anyway? That rampaging pain in his gut couldn't possibly be the reason.

"You're awake?" She asked him. "You certain?"

He stared at her. "Who? Where? Wha…?" A thought occurred to him. A very important question. "Why is the ground moving?"

"Because it's the sea." She told him. "My name is Aderyn, and you are on a ship. You are very seriously wounded, and I must ask you not to move."

"I _can't_ move." The otter told her.

She snorted. "That makes my job easier. How do you feel?"

"My stomach hurts."

"No. Your stomach _muscles_ hurt. Your stomach was not harmed."

The otter decided not to think on this. It seemed viciously complicated. After all, he was fairly certain he knew where his own pain was located far better than _she_ did, but…but…

"He's awake, then." Came a calm, cool voice as a tall, lithe otter stepped into the room, grayish blue eyes appraising the other otter evenly. "I heard his screams, but he's screamed before."

"Yes, Kydin, he's awake." The squirrel told him, her voice a little cold.

Kydin glanced at the otter, looking only vaguely interested. "Keep him quiet. Now is not a good time for this."

"Oh, _certainly_, sir. I'll just gag him and knock him out, your princeliness."

The otter glanced at her sharply. "Good." He said emotionlessly. "Nice to have the cooperation of the entire crew at a time like this." He left quickly, the door closing quietly behind him.

…

While raiding the small coastal village of Hajaki that had stumbled upon the misfortune of harvesting the riches from a shipwrecked pirate vessel, one of the twins took an arrow to the calf. The otter got a roommate.

Ladin was a talkative squirrel. He told the otter everything. From his life as a cub with his nomadic tribe, to his falling in with pirates, to his eventual falling in with _these_ pirates. It had alarmed the otter, quite visibly, to be told he was on a ship filled with pirates, but eventually he seemed to have numbed to the idea. Ladin was not a particularly demanding conversationalist. After several gaping holes and awkward silences, Ladin had simply decided that the otter wasn't interested in talking and filled the room with chatter.

Since he and his brother Nidal were trained in medical care and since Ladin would be in near constant supervision of the injured otter, Aderyn was put to bed for a very long time. Confined to the cramped room as he was, Ladin did not mind changing the bandage on the otter's only remaining wound. After all, it wasn't like the otter screamed or cursed or fought. All he did was stare at the low ceiling and blink every half hour or so.

"So, listen, mate, you've gotta have a name or somethin'." Ladin was, once again, trying to get the otter's name from him. He tried this every few hours or so, and had utilized various tactics. This one was logic, his least favorite. "It only makes sense. Even the Nameless One, bastard vermin that he is, is called the Nameless One. What do beasts call you?"

Nothing. Of course.

"You're not a mute, are you, mate? Come on. Say something. Anything."

A pause. Seconds went by. "Honor." It was a strange word said in a quiet, mocking tone.

"Honor?" Ladin inquired curiously. "That's a strange thing to say. What makes you talk of honor on a pirate ship?"

Silence.

"All right, mate, 'ave it your way. Did I ever tell you about that time Nidal an' I found Zai? You remember her, don't you? The little one? She's the reason you're alive you know, and…"

The squirrel droned on, and it was impossible to tell if the otter listened.

…

The otter woke to find he was healthy. Or, at least, healthy enough. He had felt himself healing for a while now, but now he knew that he was strong enough. Strong enough to stand, to get up, to get off this boat. This was not where he belonged. He'd had a very long time to think, and he knew now where he belonged. Home. He wanted to go home and die like the rest.

"Oy, Honor, where're you goin', mate?" Ladin inquired, lifting himself up on his elbows.

The otter brushed past him, wincing at the word the squirrel had taken to calling him. Ladin made no move to stop him, and so the otter made no move to explain himself. There were times when, if he stopped to think about exactly what he was planning to do, he knew he'd talk himself out of it. So the otter said nothing, and the squirrel just watched him go, brow furrowed in confusion.

He kept going until he found himself on the deck of the ship, grayish green eyes narrowed in the brilliant light of the midmorning sun. No creature was about, so he walked towards the escape boats, intending, without really thinking about it, to take one and leave. It didn't occur to him that, this far out at sea, it was suicide. All he wanted was to go home; it was all he thought about.

"What do you think you're doin', mate?" Came a quiet, questioning voice. "Gonna make off with one of my boats, are you?"

The otter whirled to face the prince, halfway up the rigging and staring down at him with cold, questioning blue eyes. "I am going home." He told the other otter. "I am not a pirate. I will not stay with those who are. This is not my place."

The prince nodded slowly. "And you think you're just gonna take one of my boats and sail off, aye? Think you'll get far before you die?"

The otter didn't want to think about that. He'd decided what he was going to do, and he resented that this pirate was trying to muddle his brain with facts. "I am going home."

"Oh? What home d'you think you've got left, mate? I've 'eard stories. Your home is gone."

No. Wasn't true. Couldn't be true. "Give me one of these miniature boats, some supplies, and let me go. I've done nothing to you."

"Nothing? Exactly right. You haven't given me anything, and I've kept you alive for nearly thirty days now. You owe me."

"I never asked for you to do that. If I had been awake at the time, I would have told you to leave me where you found me. But you interfered where you did not belong, and, so, here we are. If either of us owes anything, it's you to me."

"Oh?" The prince inquired. "Is that how you see it?"

"That is how it is."

The prince nodded slowly. "And what if I don't like the idea of you takin' off with my property? What then?"

"I highly doubt it's your property, pirate. It is undoubtedly stolen."

"And I keep what I steal. So it's mine, and you can't have it." A smirk, cold and amused.

"Then I will steal it, and I will keep it." And he turned back to the boat and tugged futilely at several of the ropes.

There was a strange sound, followed closely by the thumping noise of something heavy hitting wood, paws hitting wood, a hiss, and, perhaps five seconds after their conversation ended, the otter found a dagger at his throat and a pirate at his back.

"Never try to steal somethin' from a pirate unless you're a pirate yerself, mate." The prince suggested quietly. "It never quite works the way you want it too."

"If you're going to kill me, I suggest that you do so. I won't stop trying to escape until I succeed." The otter replied, his voice calm, dead.

"Then we're going to have a problem." Came the retort and, before the other otter could react, a paw landed on his shoulders and jerked, and he went stumbling backwards, away from the boats. "Because you're not taking anything that belongs to me."

"Then sail to land and let me go." The otter growled.

"Any land within reach isn't friendly to me and my crew." The prince replied, still holding the dagger. "We will be at sea for another thirty days or so, and, when we _do_ reach land, it will be far away from your homeland."

The otter bared his teeth in fury. "I want _off_ this ship!"

"And eventually you'll get there. But _not_ near your home and _not_ until I say so." The prince retorted and then smiled a small, sick, twisted little smile. "But you're welcome to try and convince me otherwise." And he tossed the dagger so that it fell halfway between the two of them.

The otter stared at the blade and then up at the pirate. Could he…? _No._ Should he…? _No._ Was there any way he could…? _No._

The dagger stayed where it was.

The pirate captain snorted and purposefully turned his back, dismissing him. "Coward."

And before he knew quite what he was doing, the otter was screaming and running, forgetting the dagger in his rage. The captain whirled around as the otter charged and something glinted gray. It writhed and whirled, and the otter just managed to come to a stop, the sword blade biting gently into his neck.

"You're fast." The captain observed, his tone mockingly impressed. "But never scream when you're attacking. Never let them know you're coming."

The otter growled and lunged backwards, crouched, and then sprang forward, knocking the captain over and settling atop him, bringing his fists back to pummel him senseless. Kydin merely rolled his eyes, tucked his legs to his chest, and slammed them into the other otter's stomach, sending the stranger reeling, clutching at his halfway healed stomach and giving little mewls of pain and distress.

"Another thing: don't _ever_ let someone do that to you. The legs are _much_ more powerful than the arms. Remember that." The captain stood up easily. "And always remember your opponent's weapons." He held up his sword. "I could have killed you."

The otter was down on one knee, his left paw resting against the deck, and his other arm wrapped around his stomach. He panted deeply, his stomach burning with every breath. It hurt. It burned so badly he couldn't stand. There was nothing in the world more powerful than his pain. Nothing but his hatred.

The prince tilted his head as the otter stood up, slowly, painfully. "Don't you think you're in enough pain? You can't win this. Not weaponless and wounded."

But he wasn't weaponless. This time, when he charged, he came with the dagger, green eyes furiously desperate. The captain's eyes widened in surprise and alarm, and he turned, running for the rigging. But, somehow, the otter caught him.

The prince felt the other otter ram into him and felt himself falling. He hadn't been in a fight going this bad for months. What, exactly, had gone wrong?

The prince felt himself hit the deck and rolled quickly, not wanting to be caught with his back towards the enemy. Not like this.

The other otter came flying out of nowhere, both of his knees colliding rather forcefully with the pirate's stomach. Kydin gasped as air fled from him and took in deep lungfuls of air right up until the dagger was suddenly resting against his throat. Then he took slightly less deep lungfuls of air.

"You are _going_ to let me leave this ship, and you are _going_ to give me enough food and water to survive the trip." The otter's eyes were wide and deranged; blood dripped from the reopened wound on his stomach.

The pirate captain snorted. "What did I just tell you about forgetting your enemy's weapons?" He demanded, and his sword slithered awkwardly up to slash a thin line across the otter's chest.

The otter pulled back in surprise and pain, and Kydin sat up as best he could and punched the other otter directly in the nose. This time the otter fell away completely, mewling and cursing in pain.

Kydin stood quickly and kneed the kneeling otter in the chin. Teeth snapped together audibly, and the otter fell over backwards, landing hard on the wooden deck. The pirate captain watched, still catching his breath, but the other otter merely writhed on the deck, whining at the pain.

"You're not completely hopeless." He observed. "You just have no clue what you're doing." He wiped his sword clean and sheathed it. "And you have an incredibly low tolerance for pain."

"Let me go." The otter growled through his whimpering breathes.

"No. I've already explained the difficulty with that." The pirate raised an eyebrow as Aderyn burst onto the deck, looking confused and murderous. "Good. You're here. Get this one back where he belongs. He's bleeding on my deck."

…

The otter rejoined Ladin, and Aderyn went to work re-bandaging the cut on his stomach and cleaning the shallow cuts on his chest and neck. Finally satisfied that her patient was only a little battered, she withdrew to speak with the captain, leaving Ladin in charge of the silent otter. The squirrel looked only mildly surprised to see him in such shape. "'ave a disagreement with the captain?" He inquired, in the type of sympathetic tone of knowing sympathy.

"All I want is to go home." The otter spoke the first full sentence to Ladin since the squirrel became acquainted with him.

"Why?"

The otter looked at him for a long time and then sighed and looked away. "Because it is my home."

Ladin was quiet for a while, a rare thing for him, and then he shrugged. "I guess I wouldn't understand. My tribe was nomadic. Besides that, my entire _family_ hated the idea of ever having to _stay_ in one place and-and what's wrong with _you_?" The squirrel propped himself up on his elbows and stared questioningly over at the otter that had suddenly hissed and curled slightly inwards, breathing hard.

The otter ignored him for a minute and then slowly, tremulously, began to stand up. Ladin stared at him. "Oy, mate, where the hell do you think you're going?" He demanded as the otter went stumbling out the door. The squirrel sighed and peered angrily down at his wounded leg. "This is all your fault." He muttered accusingly at the injured limb.

…

The otter was halfway to the tiny boats when something small and furry came skipping up to meet him. "I found you!" It cried in a tiny, girlish voice. "I _knew_ you'd live!"

He stopped and stared incredulously down at the little mouse with wide, trusting blue eyes and naive smile. She was staring up at him in a triumphant way only the very young or the very insane can manage and seemed to be reveling in the fact that he was alive. "Who are _you_?" He demanded bluntly.

"I'm the one that found you!" She told him excitedly. "Carden said they might have to throw you overboard, but I wouldn't let them."

So it was _her_ fault he hadn't died where he was supposed to. Not the captain's. But…how could he hate a _cub_? He decided to get around her and to the miniature boats, whatever they were called, as soon as possible. "Oh, well, that's very nice, but I'm on my way off the boat right now and-"

"Ship" She corrected. "An' where you going? Are you going to kill things?"

He stared at her. She was _far_ too young to take such a casual approach to killing. "No! Of course not! I'm just…I'm just going home."

"Oh." She seemed a bit disappointed. "Because when Kydin goes off the ship, an' when the rest of the crew goes, they go to kill beasts. You know, for shiny things."

That was it. No cub was going to stay with these pirates. He was going to get this child as far away from the pirates as possible.

"Listen…what's your name?"

"Zai."

"Oh, all right. Listen, Zai, I'm going…" It occurred to him that going back to his home would be suicide. Of course, he had known this all along and hadn't cared in the slightest, but now that the cub was coming with him things were a little more complicated. So. Go somewhere else, make sure she's safe, and then go home. "I'm going away."

"No! You _can't_! _I_ saved you! You're _mine_!" She screamed, and the otter jumped, surprised at how loud this tiny mouse could yell. "_I'm going with you_!"

"Fine!" He said hurriedly. "Fine, that's fine!"

"Good." She said and narrowed blue eyes at him suspiciously, as if thinking he would run off any second.

"Right. So I'm going, and you're coming with me." He nodded. Now. Where, exactly, was he going? Suddenly he started thinking. It wasn't like he hadn't been thinking before, it was just that most of his brain had been asleep. Now that it was awaking and analyzing, he found himself to be in a very difficult situation.

He couldn't escape from this ship. He had no idea where he was or where he should go. Until the captain decided he wanted to land, or until land became visible, the otter was pretty much forced to stay here. If the cub hadn't been here, he would have gone off on his own anyway. But he couldn't leave her here with a bunch of pirates. Wait…whoever heard of otter pirates? And squirrel pirates? Wait…wait…

"You look like you're brain's exploding." The mouse told him sensibly.

"I've just realized that I've been very very stupid." He informed her.

"_I _could've told you that. I mean, you have to be pretty stupid to end up all cut up in a river."

He blinked at her. "Yes. Of course. We're going to go talk to that captain now."

"Kydin?" Zai inquired and then nodded. "I haven't seen him all day."

"Lucky." He observed and they trotted off towards the sound of raised voices. Or, actually, raised _voice_.

…

Kydin sat in his chair and let Aderyn rant herself into silence. This took approximately half an hour. By the time she was finished he was rather bored with the whole thing. "I don't see why you're so alarmed. I've done this before."

"Yes, but _he_ almost died a while ago!" She shouted. "You could've _killed_ him!"

"Yes. But I didn't. I was very much aware of what I was doing and what he was doing. If there had been any real danger to either of us, I would have stopped the fight immediately. As it was, it served a very useful purpose." The prince shrugged her concerns off easily.

"_What_ purpose?" The squirrel demanded loudly.

"He's been trained, Aderyn." The otter told her. "Not very well and not very thoroughly, but he's been trained. At least, I…" The captain trailed off as the subject of discussion burst into the room, followed closely by Zai. "Well, hello." He greeted, standing up.

"You should be back where I left you!" Aderyn snapped.

"I had more important matters to deal with." Her patient retorted. "I had no idea," he was glaring now at Kydin, "that you had a cub onboard."

"I have you, don't I?" The pirate retorted lazily.

"Don't be stupid." The otter snapped. "What kind of deranged lunatic keeps a child on a _pirate_ ship? And what kind of otter _is_ a pirate?"

"Those are two very offensive questions there, mate. I'm rather hurt."

"Answer them." The otter ordered.

Kydin tilted his head slowly and then glanced sharply at Aderyn. "Aderyn, take Zai to visit Ladin. I've no doubt he'll be very bored."

The doctor hesitated for a second, as if she would very much like to threaten someone but couldn't decide who, and then sighed, scooped up the mouse, and carried her off, slamming the door on her way out.

Kydin yawned and stretched slowly before standing up. "I was wondering what kind of training you'd gotten."

"What?" The otter seemed confused by this and very much annoyed at the subject change.

"Well, I mean you've obviously been trained to fight, but how much and with what? It's very important that I know how well you can fight. Even if you _do_ object to it, you _are_ on my ship, and it's not safe for you to just be blundering around."

"But it's perfectly fine to have a _cub_ onboard?"

"Of course." Kydin shrugged. "We keep her safe. We've got some hiding places on this ship, and we stick her in one." He sized the otter up. "I doubt you'd fit."

"But _why_ is she _here_? It's not right to keep a cub on a _pirate ship_!"

"You know where we found her?" Kydin demanded suddenly, his smile disappearing. "Tryin' to wake her mother up. Her mother whose head was attached by a tiny bit of skin. Pirates raided her village and destroyed it completely. _Other_ pirates, mate, so you can get that look off your face. We used to trade with her village. They liked shiny things, and we needed the water. The pirates raided them for the gold we gave them in exchange for water. You think we should've left her there? She was the only one left alive. Not safe on a pirate ship, aye? What about the rest of the world?"

The otter was silent for a moment, and then he spoke up again. "You shouldn't have her here. She could get killed."

"She could get killed anywhere. Here at least she's got others to look out for her. We keep her safe, mate."

"But you're pirates."

"Aye. But we're selective pirates, mate. We don't kill when we don't have to, and we only steal what others can afford to lose. There are a lot of rich bastards out there. We might as well steal their gold."

"Gold won't make you happy."

"No, but it'll make me forget that I'm not."

The otter scowled. "You should _not_ have a cub aboard the ship."

"Way I see it, mate," Kydin told him languidly, stretching slowly, "you shouldn't have cubs at all. I mean, look at the world. Terrible place to live. If anyone had any mercy left in 'em they'd slit their cub's throat the moment they were born. But we're all vindictive bastards and figure if _we_ have to live here then we're not about to suffer it alone."

"That is _not_ what other's think!"

"'ow would _you_ know? Read minds, do you?"

"No, but it's an _idiotic_ theory. No one has cubs just because their bitter!"

The prince snorted. "No, I rather think there's a couple other reasons, too."

The otter scowled at him. "I _don't_ want to hear them!"

"Good. You're a bit young."

"Go die." He suggested helpfully.

The prince laughed at that, "'Go die?'" He repeated. "'Go _die_?'"

"Yes. Now."

"Oy, mate, I'm not plannin' on dyin' anytime soon and unless you can make it happen, don't go orderin' me to die, alright?" He chuckled, amused.

The otter's eyes narrowed, and he lunged forward, paws out to throttle Kydin. The prince reacted by jumping towards him and bowling him completely over. "'aven't we tried this already?" He inquired. "'aven't you learned your lesson?"

The otter responded by cursing. He wasn't paying a particular amount of attention to the words coming out of his mouth, so they were spilled out in rather as if someone took hold of a cup of rancid milk and tossed it into another someone's face. There were large chunks of particularly nasty phrases, a few bits of very colorful language, and some that appeared quite innocent until you actually thought about them, but everything he said was deeply bitter and, if thought of for too long, made one gag.

The prince stood there for a minute or two, listening rather curiously, and then, having heard enough, grabbed the other otter by the shirtfront and began dragging him, protesting, clawing, and cursing, across the ship. The curses continued right up to the point when Kydin stood in front of the railing and looked down at the otter.

"I don't allow language like that on my ship, mate. Could damage the young one's fragile mind. She's not near old enough to be exposed to that kind of nonsense." This brought a moment of furious silence followed by another bout of cursing with renewed vigor. "'ave it your way, then." Kydin muttered, lifted the otter up, and tossed him overboard.

Aderyn, who had just burst on deck as she seemed to be doing quite frequently these days, went running over to the railing, only stopping when the metal dug into her stomach. "**_Kydin_**!" She shrieked. "You **_killed him_**!"

Kydin, who had watched the otter execute a surprisingly flawless dive, was not unduly worried. "Oh, he's an otter, Aderyn. He'll be fine. Besides, I learned something else."

Aderyn was breathing very heavily and looked to be hyperventilating a bit. "What could you **_possibly_** learn by _throwing an otter **overboard**_?"

Kydin smiled that same strange smile of his that never reached his eyes. "I learned exactly where he comes from. There's only one place in the world beasts learn to dive like that even when they've been seriously injured. One place in the world, Aderyn, and that place was destroyed."

"**_You_**, sir," Aderyn hissed as Zai came trotting up, drawn by the shouting. The squirrel faltered a bit as the cub appeared, but then continued, "Are going someplace _dark and scary_ when you die!"

"Yes." He agreed with a wide, cheeky grin. "Yes, probably. _Vix_! Get the otter out of the water, will you? He's injured after all!" And then the prince sauntered back to his cabin as the first mate and Nidal went to work fishing the otter out of the sea. The otter, of course, was not unduly enthusiastic about returning to the ship and caused quite a few problems.

…

Ladin looked up in surprise as his twin brought the otter, shivering and wrapped in a blanket, back in. "Did ya go for a swim?" He demanded, shocked.

"Captain threw him overboard." Nidal informed him with a roll of his eyes and a wink. "He seems to be a bit shocked by the whole experience. Keeps chattering his teeth together and insulting Kydin's mother."

"Oh, that'll get him real dead real fast." Ladin observed cynically.

Nidal dismissed that idea with a shake of his head. "I don't think so. I think the prince has grown out of that whole murderous rampage of his."

"You think so?" Ladin inquired curiously. "Must've been while I was down here."

"'ow long you think you'll _be_ here? Captain doesn't wanna chance another raid without you, says the vermin'll think you've died, and they won't be so easy to push around, but he's gettin' real jittery, I think. Wants to kill somethin'."

"I'm perfectly fine. It's Aderyn that keeps me down here. It's my roughish good looks. Can't bear the thought of me gettin' myself killed in a raid, _I_ think."

"I don't think so, mate. You're ugly." Nidal told his identical twin. "Anyway, I gotta get back up there. Captain wants to talk to me, Vix, an' Aderyn. Make sure this one doesn't do anything _else_ suicidal, alright?"

"Fine, fine. Just put 'em back in his little bed. He'll be fine." Ladin waved a paw dismissively.

Nidal snorted and shoved the shivering otter gently towards his bed. "You go there, mate." He informed him helpfully and then went on his way, appearing rather unconcerned by the whole matter.

"Damn pirates." The otter muttered resentfully.

"Aw, mate, that hurts." Ladin objected. "Really. You got me right in the heart with that one."

A cold, calculating glance. "I'm sure you'll live. And, if you don't, I'm sure your fanatic captain will at least wait until you're really dead before attempting to bury you at sea."

Ladin chuckled. "I can't remember the last time he chunked one of us off the ship. He's done it before, though. Probably back when he was just takin' over."

"Taking over?" The otter asked curiously, his teeth still chattering together.

"Well, didn't you ever wonder why he was the _prince_, Honor? The king had to die before he inherited the ship."

"Don't call me that." The otter snapped. "And who was the king?"

"_That_ is a very special question. One you'll have to ask Kydin because the rest of us won't tell you." A pause. "What's your name, then?"

An angry, brooding silence.

Ladin rolled his eyes and smirked. "Look, mate, it's not a very large ship, and there aren't an awful lot of creatures onboard. You're gonna have to be called something. So either give up your name or answer to what we call you."

The otter turned his head and scowled fiercely at the squirrel. Minutes passed. The squirrel grinned.

"Honor it is, then." The squirrel announced.

"Don't get attached." Honor suggested, in much the same way his mother had once suggested he not get attached to a butterfly he'd caught. "I don't plan to be here long."


	2. Chapter Two

((I would just like to make the timeline of this story clear. Redsplash and Honor are two different characters and have two completely different storylines. They do, however, eventually meet up with each other. But this is _not_ the sequel to Destiny Bearing, which, by the way, still has a few chapters to go. It's set a few seasons before Vengeance Born. Redsplash will not be mentioned in this story.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about, please disregard everything I just said as it will make no sense unless you've read my other two story thingies.))

…

The prince was halfway asleep when someone knocked on his door. He sighed, knowing who it would be. No one else would dare to knock on his door when he was attempting to sleep. No one else would be so caught up in their own problems that they'd think the prince was somehow involved. "What do you want, otter?" He called out, knowing he could be heard through his door.

"I want to know," the otter yelled back, "who the king is."

The prince closed his eyes slowly, biting his lip. He tasted blood and thought he'd long gotten over the vicious rage any mention of the king brought up. "What makes you think you deserve to know?"

"Don't be stupid. Let me in."

"The door isn't locked." Kydin pointed out.

The door was pushed open slowly, almost as if the otter suspected the pirate to lunge out of the shadows and slit his throat. He squinted and located the captain. "Oh. There you are."

"And here I'll stay." Kydin retorted, settling pointedly back into his hammock.

"Who is the king?"

"Nobody. Nothing. He's dead."

"He's dead?" A surprised, awed tone. The prince snorted. The tone of someone who hadn't seen death much.

"Dead. Over. Gone. Through. Why do you care about a corpse?"

"Because…because it's _important_. You're just the prince. How come you didn't turn into the king?"

"Because I'm not the king. I'm the prince. It's the other pirates, otter. _They_ named us. Stupid little nicknames. Demon twins, witch, assassin, thief, prince, king. It's just what they call us."

"Who's the witch?"

"Aderyn."

"And the assassin?"

"Vix."

"The thief?"

"Dead. We lost him to a bunch of rats half a season ago."

"Is that how the king died?"

"No bunch of _rats_ could kill the _king_, idiot. It was his past that got that one. Would've gotten me, too, if they'd known."

"What?"

"Oh, damn. Make the connection. Use that brain. King. Prince. King. Prince."

The otter blinked, seemed to be thinking, and then blinked, eyes widening. "Was the king your father?"

"Brilliant. You could really get somewhere with that mind right you've got. Should get yourself an education. You could be a scholar." The prince rolled his eyes and wished fervently that his next raid would involve an awful lot of alcohol.

"Are you always this antagonistic?"

"'Antagonistic?'" The prince repeated doubtfully. "That's a rather large word there, mate. Seems like someone already gave you an education. Only, seems pretty worthless now, doesn't it? You can use big words with the best of 'em, but you can't handle a fight? That's unrealistic teaching right there."

"Don't insult my upbringing."

"Oh, what? Are you going to throw your bandaging at me? Come on, mate, there's no point to this. Go get some sleep."

"I want to know how long I'm going to be kept here."

"Well, damn, mate, I have no idea. You could die tomorrow, or you could be here for seasons. I have no control over fate, you know."

"You're the one keeping me here. _You're_ the one who won't turn the ship around and let me go home."

"Because it would endanger my crew. We'd be killed. Besides that, there really isn't much point in keeping you here. You're too weak to be of help, and you're determined to be a nuisance. You can go next time we land."

The otter nodded, smirking.

"But Zai stays with us, mate."

"_What_? You can't possibly keep the cub onboard! She'll be killed."

"We all die eventually, mate, and she serves a purpose. We can fight off the vermin, and the unfriendly mice and otters won't dare attack with a cub onboard. She stays."

"You're evil." The otter accused, his voice furious.

"Not evil, mate, just cold. Cold and tired, so, if you don't mind, can you shut that door and go away? You're letting all the cold air in."

"I would kill you if I you didn't keep winning all our fights."

The prince laughed. "You want to learn how to fight, mate? Is that it? Fine. I'll teach you some tricks. 's the least I can do, I suppose. I did sort of kidnap you. But go away now. Shoo."

"'_Shoo_?'"

"Look, I will find something to throw at you if you don't leave."

"What?" The otter inquired, purposefully opening the door even wider. Cold air rushed it.

"Probably a fist."

"Oh. Right. Well." The door closed and the otter disappeared.

"Right. Yes." The prince shook his head, took a moment to thoroughly curse all the gods he could think of, and fell quietly off to sleep.

…

"Now, you see, mate, the problem comes when you catch a fish bigger than you are." Ladin told the otter knowledgably. "And believe me, they get that big."

"I believe you." Honor replied hollowly, not really paying attention.

"And, so, there you are with a fish bigger than you and what do you do?" Ladin glanced at him and noticed he wasn't paying attention at all. "Lasso your mother to a shark and chunk her in the river as bait, of course, and, Honor if you're not even going to listen, why did you _ask_?"

"Because it gives you something to do." The otter replied distantly. "And, Ladin, did you know the king?"

"I'm not talkin' about that. Kydin'd fork my tongue."

"What?"

"The thief talked once. Kydin slit the poor bastards tongue down the center. Forked it like a snake. Said he didn't want a treacherous snake onboard, but if he had to have one, might as well be able to recognize it. O' course, those two always did hate each other. Didn't actually know Kydin cared at all until the thief died. _That_ was a disturbing night."

"What?"

"Well, we all knew the prince had it in him. I mean, look at what he did to his own _crewmate_. But that…that was…" Ladin shrugged away the disturbing memory. "Let's say there are a few less rats in the world thanks to that one and his knives, and leave it at that."

"He's sick."

"I'd say it was more that he's completely aware of what he can and can't do morally, and there's very little he can't do."

"And he's deeply, terribly, mentally ill."

"Well." Ladin shrugged. "That too."

"I do so love walking into a conversation about me." Kydin announced as he sauntered in through the door. "I feel so prepared, seeing as how I am quite well informed on the subject."

"Go die." Honor snapped distractedly. "I was in the middle of a conversation."

The prince leaned against the doorway and looked to Ladin, the otter's eyes sparkling with amusement, the squirrel's with nerves. "Isn't he cute, mate? I mean, you'd think him brave if you didn't know he was just stupid."

"Didn't I just tell you to die?" Honor demanded spitefully, scowling across at him.

"Aye." The prince nodded. "But didn't I already tell _you_ that if you couldn't kill me, not to order me to die?"

"Your mother did a great crime against the world when she didn't strangle you in your sleep." Honor snapped at him viciously.

The prince's eyes flashed, and his paw went to rest on his sword hilt, an insane little smile settling on his face. "Watch it, mate. I don't need you, and I wouldn't mind killing you. The sea is awfully deep. Unless you can swallow _it_, I suggest you swallow that tongue of yours."

Honor gave a strange sound that seemed to be a hybrid of a snort and a snarl, but he looked away, glaring furiously at the floor. The prince nodded, smirking calmly even if his eyes flamed with a deranged sort of anger.

"Is there…is there some reason you came down here, sir?" Ladin inquired after a moment or too of a silence so tense it made him shiver.

The prince shrugged. "I came to see how that paw of yours was feeling."

Ladin stood up, wincing only slightly as he flexed the muscle. "I'm fine, captain."

"You're a bloody liar." Kydin accused with a small frown. "Not good, Ladin. We needed you for this one."

"I'm _fine_." Ladin argued. "And what d'you mean? You're goin to do somethin' without me, aren't you?"

"'ave to, mate." Kydin replied with an apologetic shrug. "Cyma's bird showed up this mornin'. Thing's half dead. Keeps squawking somethin' about a jail down south."

"They caught _Cyma_?" Ladin seemed caught between outrage and disbelief. "With _what_?"

"Who knows, mate? She might've just got curious and sauntered in 'erself. You know what she's like."

"She's not stupid enough to throw 'erself in a prison she can't get out of." Ladin said, sounding offended.

"'m not insultin' your hero, mate. I'm just sayin' she probably went in to recruit and found too many to get out the way she originally planned. Or maybe she finally got caught tryin' to escape. 'm glad she sent for us rather than anyone else. She always pays nicely." The prince turned his gaze back on the injured paw. "Too bad about that, mate. 's gonna be lovely breakin' into a prison without you."

"Captain, I'm **_fine_**!" Ladin argued. "Look, just don't tell Aderyn I'm goin' until I actually leave, and it'll be fine. I swear."

"Oh, right, and have that one's wrath aimed at _me_ for another season and a half? I don't think so, mate. I terrified of what'll happen to me if I ever become injured. She'd probably leave me to die."

"She would not." Ladin argued unhappily. "She'd just rant at you the entire time she was healing you."

"Which, incidentally, is a fate far worse than death." The prince answered with a grin.

"Love to you as well, Kydin." Aderyn remarked darkly as she stalked in. "The bird left. I did what I could for him, but I still doubt he'll make it back to land."

Kydin scowled. "Why'd you let him leave?"

"What was I supposed to do, Kydin?" Aderyn snapped back. "Jump on his back? Tie his wings to the anchors? I'm just a _doctor_! I wasn't _supposed_ to be a _pirate_!"

"No." Kydin drawled, eyes cold. "You were _supposed_ to die a slave."

"Why hasn't anyone killed you yet?" Honor demanded harshly, interrupting the conversation. "I mean, at the very least, someone should've cut your tongue out by now. You're an unintelligent cold-hearted _bastard_. I'm a bit surprised the very _earth_ hasn't risen up against you yet."

"Alright, mate, let's go," Kydin said and grabbed the other otter by the throat, dragging him out of the room.

"_Ack_! Leg_go_!" Honor struck out at the arm holding him blindly.

"Seems to me you're not a quick learner." Kydin mused. "And the only way to teach otters like you _anything_ is, quite clearly, repetition."

Honor panicked when he realized they were heading towards the railing. He was _not_ going over again. His paw scrambled to the other's wrist, and he dug his claws in with all the strength of a full-blown bout of panic. Kydin released him with a furious snarl of pain.

Honor fell over backwards, landing hard on his shoulders and slamming his head back into the wooden desk. He got up dazed, staggering around a bit, trying to remember how to use his eyes. Something heavy slammed into him, and he went flying back into the wood again, crying out in pain as all the air fled from his lungs. He choked, gasping, and bleary eyes focused right before the captain grabbed his forehead and smashed it back against the deck.

Honor cried out again as everything blurred and burned, and he curled into a ball. Distantly, he heard the prince's mocking laughter as the other otter stood up. "What 'appened to that brain of yours, mate? A brief swim is nothing compared to broken ribs or a fractured skull. Shoulda known that one." There was a moment of considering silence. "Didn't I promise to teach you how to fight?"

Honor coughed in response, slowly unrolling as the pain started to ebb.

"Right. Well, then. Better get started."

Honor's teeth bit through his lip as a vicious kick to his ribs knocked the recently reclaimed air right out of him. He rolled away, as if by getting away from the captain he could escape the pain in his ribs, and he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and desperately dragged air back in. "What are you _doing_?" He demanded once he had enough air.

"Feel like fightin' yet?"

"Leave me alone." Honor snapped, choking and rolling onto his back, groaning as he rubbed at his ribs.

"Leave you alone? Would've solved our problems, aye? If I had left you to die on that beach. You would've. Died, I mean. But, you see, you didn't want to die. You don't want to die now. Funny thing about all of us. All we really want is to survive. You, see, you say you want to go home because you think you want to die. But here I am, and I could kill you right now, and you want me to leave you alone. Don't want to die now that it starts to hurt, do you?"

Honor turned his disbelieving gaze on him. "What do you think you're doing? Appealing to my sense of _logic_? You're _insane_!"

"Now, my father used to say pain was all about your body tellin' you that whatever you're doin' to it isn't on the ride side of sanity if you want to live. Think about that one, mate. You feel pain because your body wants to live. You ever really want to die, it'll stop hurtin'. Your body'll be numb. No pain. So, once this stops hurtin', I'll let you die." Another kick, this one to his neck.

Honor let out a strange cry and clutched at his neck, an incredulous expression of pain on his face.

"What? Still hurts? Guess you're not ready to die yet." He placed his foot paw on the other otter's stomach and began pressing down, attempting, apparently, to rearrange Honor's internal organs.

Suddenly, with a desperate shriek of rage, Honor sat up and dug his fangs into the prince's leg. The prince lunged backwards, staring down at Honor. "What happened to wanting to die?" He asked, somehow managing to sound amused.

Honor gave another shriek and lurched forward, attempting to tackle the other otter. But an elbow slammed into his neck and, for a second, all the colors in the world drained away and everything turned gray. He scrambled backwards, somehow avoiding a kick he didn't see. His brain didn't seem to be working. All he had was the strangest voice screaming in the back of his head telling him to rip, to tear, to kill. Because he did not want to die.

He felt himself moving forward, felt his paws slamming against something that moved backwards, trying to evade the blows. He felt himself trying to kill the captain, but he did not understand what he was doing. Not until he was knocked over and he felt something cold press against his throat.

Blurry eyesight focused slowly, and he found the prince kneeling beside him with a dagger pressed against his neck. "Lesson's over, mate. Welcome back to civilization."

"What are..? What did you…?" Honor felt a pounding pain in his head and reached up to clutch at his skull, confused.

"Survival, mate. We'll do anything for it. Problem is, beasts like you who grew up with everythin' given to you have all these stupid ideals that keep you from fightin' back. Somethin' needed to open your eyes. I figured I might as well beat you senseless and have some fun myself."

"Are you ever going to grow bored of rampant sadism?" Honor inquired as he groaned and reached up to push at the arm that held the blade to his neck.

"Not until the pain stops, mate." Kydin replied as he drew back and stood up, the knife disappearing into his boot. "Come on, then. Aderyn'll want to see to you." A paw reached down, offering to help him up.

Honor stared at it. The beast he'd wanted to kill a minute ago was offering to help him up. What kind of strange world had he been dragged into? A season ago, he would have held a grudge against anyone who had dared to step on his foot on accident. Now, here he was, and an otter who had led to two slashes from a sword, a loose tooth, a near-drowning in the ocean, and what felt like seven broken ribs, a missing lung, and a crushed neck, was holding a paw down to help him up. And there he was, taking the offer of help.

He felt himself pulled to his feet and shook his head, struggling to stay steady. "You just wait until I can see straight." Honor murmured dazedly. "I'm going to sneak up behind you and hit you on the head."

"Aw, you're talking nonsense, mate." The prince retorted as he grabbed him by the elbow and led him off towards the doctor. "You can't sneak up on me. I'd hear you comin'. I always hear 'em comin'."

"Tell me, do you really intend to teach me how to fight by nearly killing me?"

"Oh, yes. Worked for Aderyn and the twins. Only makes sense that it should work for you." He glanced at the otter seriously. "Though, to tell you the truth, all three of them had already been in enough fights to tell when they should give up. So it's all up to me to train a decent tolerance of pain into you."

Honor looked at him blearily, a look of hopeless dread filling his eyes. "The gods hate me." He announced finally, sounding like an otter a minute from execution.

"Cheer up, mate." Kydin suggested with a grin that dripped evilness. "The gods hate us all."

…

_Blue eyes and sharp teeth._ _Bloodstains and a scream of fury._

_Pain everywhere, and darkness. It smelled of rotten bodies and rusted steel. The air filled with screams._

_A monster stalked him, and he refused to run. He knew he would die. Might as well die without being a coward._

_Something behind him, breathing on him._ _Teeth piercing his neck._

_He screamed._

_And everything changed._

_A mouse stood before him, now, the entire landscape peaceful and blue. A small, sympathetic smile settled over the mouse's face. "Did you think that-"_

"**_Kydin_**!" A knocked on his door summoned him from his dreams. "Are you awake or not?"

"**_No_**!" Kydin breathed in deeply, fighting back his irritation at being woken. He'd had that dream for the past three days now, and every time someone or something and interrupted him before he could finish it.

"Lying is bad." Honor mocked him openly. He'd grown brave with his disgust for the captain. It was time, apparently, for Kydin to teach the idiot his place.

Again.

He leaped out of his hammock, had the sense to pull on some pants and buckle his sword around his waist before stalking over to the door and yanking it open. Honor stumbled, having been leaning on the door, and fell against him. Kydin, to show his appreciation for the greeting, shoved him violently to the floor.

"Was there something you needed, Honor?" The prince demanded coldly.

"I was wondering if you would mind telling me who Cyma is." Honor answered as he picked himself up with a scowl.

"An acquaintance." Kydin growled. "Now, would _you_ mind telling _me_ why you just woke me up?"

Honor shrugged. "I was bored."

"Bored?" Kydin inquired tightly. "I see. Well. No one should ever have to suffer boredom."

A flash of unease crossed Honor's face. "Wait. What do you-"

"Let's go." Kydin shoved him towards the deck, and Honor nearly fell again. "I was teaching you to fight, remember?"

"No. We're done with that." Honor argued. "I know how to fight, I swear."

"You do not. You don't even know how to brawl." Kydin retorted, amused despite his fury.

"Well, I've never quite had the opportunity to brawl." Honor argued. "I mean, I didn't really grow up with _your_ type."

"My '_type_?'" Kydin inquired. "Now, see, I was going to feel guilty for beating you unconscious today, but not anymore. Not after that."

"You can't do this!" Honor growled, hurling himself up the ladder and hearing Kydin's laugh follow him just as quickly. "Aderyn said!"

"And who runs this ship, d'you think?" The question followed Honor as he reached the deck and went sprinting towards the ocean. The sea was far more forgiving then Kydin.

He reached the railing and had almost scrambled over it when a forearm locked around his throat and yanked him back. Laughter rang out as Kydin watched Honor fall flat on his back, his vision flickering. "Aw, mate, come on. You're alone in the world now, right? So no one cares about you. No one. You've gotta learn to fight, or you'll just end up dead."

"Everyone dies." Honor growled as he staggered to his paws and turned, slowly, resentfully to face the prince. "Your body begins to decay from the moment you are born."

"Does not." Kydin argued. "It starts to decay from the moment you realize you can die."

"How is that logical?" Honor demanded, irritated at the way the older otter played around with the laws of nature and tried to convince others he was right.

"Aw, it's not mate, but the world isn't logical, aye?" Kydin's eyes narrowed slightly. "You don't think logic explains everythin', d'you? You _do_. You sick bastard. You have no idea about anything, do you? What did they _teach_ you?"

Honor's mind buzzed while it searched for the quickest way to annoy the prince. "The truth." He settled on.

Kydin snorted. "The truth, aye? You little liar."

Honor found himself wondering if he had developed some kind of masochistic streak. "You-"

"D'you know what the problem is with logic?" Kydin interrupted him.

Honor paused, frowning. "No…"

Kydin's paw shot out and grabbed Honor's wrist, his claws digging in viciously. "It is so easily overcome by emotion."

Honor shrieked and struck the prince with his left paw,and the prince let go. "What's _wrong_ with you?" Honor demanded. "I haven't done _anything_ to you that wasn't your fault in the first place! If you had just left me to die like I _wanted you to_ then-"

"You'd be dead." Kydin scowled down at him. "Death is not something you should ever strive for, Honor. Suicide is not a pretty thing. It's a useless,desperate act fueled by selfishness and stupidity."

"It _wasn't_ suicide!" Honor raged. "_They_ killed me! I was _supposed_ to _die_!"

"You were not. If you were supposed to die, you'd be dead. And if you weren't supposed to learn how to fight, you wouldn't've been found by _my_ crew. If you believe that things're 'supposed' to happen, you've got no right to complain when they don't go your way."

"You're insane." Honor breathed. "Absolutely insane. Do you even _think_ about the words that come out of your mouth?"

"Occasionally." Kydin shrugged. "But I'm serious, mate. Logic. It's useless. Pain cancels it out completely. It an' fear. You could logic yourself silly and still be terrified out of your mind."

"Is there a point to any of this?"

"Look, mate, there's only a few things you need to know." Kydin shrugged and drew his sword again. "The first being that your will to survive overpowers any emotion you will ever feel, and the second that pain can be beaten by fear, and fear by anger."

Honor blinked at him. "Right. Anything else?"

Kydin smiled wickedly. "What, d'you suppose, are the advantages of a sword against fists?"

…

"If anyone needs me," Aderyn called as she left breakfast with a surprisingly cheerful smile, "I'll be off drowning myself."

Nidal's head lifted in surprise, and he was halfway through standing when the prince's paw on his shoulder pushed him back down. "Ignore 'er, mate. She just caught sight of Honor is all. She'll be fine by lunch."

"What did you do to the poor beast now?" Nidal inquired, glancing uneasily in the direction Aderyn had gone.

"Nothin'. Well. I taught him the advantages of a sword over fists." Kydin answered as he sat down and began to feast on bread.

Nidal groaned, wincing in commiseration. "Is there enough skin left on him for Aderyn to sew shut?"

"You know, I get the strangest feeling that you lot don't fully appreciate what I'm doing for our young otter friend." Kydin mused, glancing suspiciously at Nidal and then at Ladin, who had hobbled here under the close supervision of Aderyn. "I did it for you two as well, remember?"

"Aye, but we were quite a bit older and quite a bit more acquainted with fightin' and whatnot." Nidal pointed out. "And we always fought you together. He's fightin' by himself."

"Well, it makes sense, doesn't it? You two always fight together, no matter what you're doin'. He fights alone, so he learns to fight alone."

"You ever think what all this might be doin' to him? I mean, he's a little young to get himself nearly killed every other day, don't you think?"

"What? The young bounce back. He'll be fine."

Suddenly the door slammed open and Vix appeared, an offended and harassed look on his face. He stalked over and sat down, grabbing Nidal's cup and draining it angrily. "Damn squirrel." He muttered finally.

"Oy!" Lidan objected.

"_Aderyn_." Vix elaborated. "If she couldn't throw a shoot a bow better than _you_, Kydin, I'd tie her to an anchor, chunk 'er overboard, and thank the gods for the peace and quiet."

"You would not." Nidal growled, and Ladin glanced at him, frowning a bit.

"She _is_ handy with a bow, though. Not to mention with those medicines of hers." Ladin spoke up, his gaze moving from his twin to Kydin, who was staring at Nidal with a curious expression on his face.

"Why, she _is_ handy with those medicines of hers. In fact, I think she's saved everyone on this damn ship but me an' Vix." Kydin agreed, smirking.

"Anyone know why Aderyn's declared war on all pirates?" Carden demanded as he wandered in, a small cut on his jaw slowly leaking blood and a wide-eyed, confused look on his face.

"I think it has something to do with the mess Kydin made of the otter." Vix replied darkly and glanced around, bored and, as usual, pessimistic about being bored.

"To be fair, he did manage this little flesh wound." Kydin gestured at forearm, where a shallow gash ran from his elbow nearly all the way down to his wrist.

"With his _fists_?" Nidal demanded, shocked.

"A claw, actually. Idiot keeps trying to rip me apart with his teeth and his claws. At least he didn't bite me this time. I think 'e wants to be one o' those Warheart wildcats when he grows up."

"I lost a cousin to those bastards." Carden growled.

"Aye, ya did, mate." Kydin agreed. "And almost lost yourself. I remember hittin' you over the head to keep you from goin' after it."

"Oh, right. _Thanks_ for that." Carden remarked, rolling his eyes.

"You're welcome. Just don't turn suicidal again, or I'll just point and laugh." Kydin retorted.

"An' I'll point and laugh at _both_ of you as I make off with the ship." Vix added.

"That there's mutiny-talk." Carden pointed out with an evil grin.

"Excellent observation, Carden." Kydin observed. "Do us a favor then, an' throw the first mate off the ship, aye?"

"Touch me and die." Vix growled as Carden glanced at him curiously.

"Oy, Carden, what's this hesitating? Mutiny's afoot! I demand you end it!" Kydin ordered.

"Must I repeat myself?" Vix demanded, pulling out a wickedly curved dagger. "If I stab you with this, you will spend your last hours bellowing for your mother, who, if I ever find, I _will_ kill."

"You don't know my mother." Carden, poor beast, looked completely confused.

"I do!" Ladin offered, waving his paw festively.

"Look, if someone doesn't take care of the mutiny, I'll be forced to take care of it myself." Kydin pointed out.

"Think of your mother." Vix snapped when Carden turned towards him again.

"No, mate, don't." Ladin suggested, shaking his head. "Really. _Don't_."

"Right. In all seriousness, mates, I think it's time to get serious." Kydin announced and everyone glanced at him, confused.

"What d'you mean?" Ladin inquired nervously.

"Gotta make sure our otter friend won't go off tellin' secrets." The prince shrugged, his face blank.

"Aw, no, not that." Carden winced, as if in pain, and drew back. "I hated that."

"No one likes it." Vix snapped. "I'm gonna need a drink, captain. If we're gonna do this."

"Me too." Carden added, still looking a bit squeamish.

"Right." Nidal nodded, looking uneasy and unnerved. "I s'ppose it'll be me an' Ladin an' Aderyn? Since we know 'em best?"

"Has to be." Kydin agreed. "Go for the good ole murderin' the captain. Always was a classic."

"Does Aderyn know?" Nidal asked quietly.

"No. Gotta surprise her. She'll do what you do, Nidal, so that makes you in charge."

"Glad it's not me." Ladin remarked unhappily.

"Right. Lucky." Nidal sighed. "I'll go in first. Ladin, you follow, alright? An' _you're_ the one who swears him to secrecy, not me. I'm not doin' that."

"Damn you." Ladin retorted, eyes narrowing with useless anger.

Nidal just shook his head and walked out. There was silence as Carden and Vix went about locating drinks and proceeding to drink them and then Ladin got up and followed his twin.

Kydin nodded slowly, snorting. He lifted the cup to his lips and drank it down. "If I was half as drunk as I wish I was, today would've been a good day."

…

"Aderyn!" Nidal found the doctor attempting to locate Honor, who had, apparently, disappeared.

"What?" Aderyn demanded, squinting at several drops of blood before cleaning them off the deck with the bottom of her boot.

"Kydin wants a loyalty test."

Aderyn straightened and turned to him. "Tell me you're lying."

"Can't."

"I'll kill the bastard." Aderyn growled. "I really will. He's _damn_ lucky he hasn't been injured yet. Once he is, I'm gonna kill him in his sleep. I will take a spoon and _gut_ him. I-"

"Aderyn!" Nidal looked around uneasily. "Don't say things like that."

"Oh, what? That one isn't the least bothered by death threats. Bastard knows none of us could kill him." Her head jerked as she heard the distinct sound of someone vomiting. "I suppose he's got Ladin in as well?"

"Of course."

Aderyn scowled. "Well. I'll have to kill both of you later, you know that, don't you?"

"Of course."

"Good. 's long as you know." Aderyn shook her head. "He's gonna kill him. Idiot doesn't know what he's doing."

"You know he does."

"Shut up. I _prefer_ to be delusional." Aderyn let out a shot hiss of frustration. "I know where he his. I've still got to bandage the cuts, though, so wait a few minutes."

"Alright." Nidal looked over at her. "Aderyn…you know it's necessary."

She shot him an irritated glance. "So is death."

…

"How long 'till we get to Cyma?" The prince demanded, staring across at Vix, the assassin.

"A few days or maybe half a season. The winds 'round this place are fickle." Vix answered quietly, leaning against the closed door.

Kydin glanced up at him. Vix had been brought onto the ship back when the king was still alive. Vix, being the same age as Kydin, was barely old enough to hold a sword without tipping over, and the king had taken him in almost as another son. Raised together as they were, the two of them shared a bond full of the mixture of resentment and loyalty that only family members can manage, and treated each other as brothers even if one was a mouse and the other was an otter.

The king had always told the prince that Kydin had a real brother out there somewhere in the world. A brother that would be going through unspeakable torment for his entire life. Daes, the king, had always hoped Kydin would go after his brother and save him, but Kydin had met the beasts that had his brother, and Vix was all the brother he'd ever need.

"Anyway to get there faster?"

"No. Not unless you want to pull out the oars." Vix answered.

"The king swore we'd never use those." Kydin replied, a little surprised and a little annoyed.

"Yes. But the king is dead, and Cyma could end up in the same condition."

Kydin considered this, eyes narrowed. "No." He said suddenly. "We won't go back to what this ship used to be, Vix."

Vix hesitated and then sighed. "I didn't think you'd agree to the oars anyway."

The prince shrugged to show his annoyance with the subject. "Don't you have anything else to talk about?"

"Aderyn threatened to gut you with a spoon in your sleep."

"I imagine I'd wake up for that." Kydin smirked. "I suppose it's about the loyalty test?"

"Those weren't…exactly the words she used."

Kydin snorted. "No. I doubt they were."

"But I have noticed he stopped attempting to escape. Still doesn't speak to me, or any of the crew but the twins, Aderyn, and you for that matter, but he's stopped looking at us like he wants to skin us alive."

"That's always good, aye?"

"I think he's finally realized he doesn't want to go home."

Kydin nodded thoughtfully. "I noticed, too. Wonder what he thinks he's gonna do, if not go home?"

"Probably the same thing everyone else on this boat did." Vix decided with a roll of his eyes.

"Oh, no, _really_? The little noble-minded otter? Become a pirate?" Kydin grinned. "Now _what_ could've given you _that_ idea?"

…

"I'm going to kill him." Aderyn swore. "_Going_ to _kill_ him."

"He's teaching me to fight." Honor retorted.

"He's _teaching_ you to fight because the rest of us learned not to a long time ago!"

"Not to fight?"

"Not to fight _back_. That…that _otter_ is a _bastard_ and a _sadist_ and…and…hold still!" She pushed his shoulder back down forcefully and continued to carefully bandage the slice on his forearm.

"He's not a bastard!" Honor wailed.

"When did _you_ start fighting his battles for him?" Aderyn demanded. "And how come everyone on this damn _boat_ ends up on his side?"

"Because he's a very charismatic individual." Nidal pointed out as he walked in. "Aderyn, have you been arguing with the captain again?"

"Oh, what's he going to do to me?" Aderyn retorted sharply. "He won't chunk me off the boat. The king put him in charge of lookin' out for me. Bastard thinks I don't know, but I do. All his threats are empty. He won't do _anything_ to me."

"And do you think any of the rest of us are safe?" Nidal questioned, his tone soft but sharp. "Have you forgotten what he's like? Especially since we're goin' after Cyma. It's not _safe_ to bait him. Whatever oath he took, he'll find a loophole. You know him."

Aderyn glanced over her shoulder, frowning. "Yes. Yes, I know him. I know him far better than you do. Better than everyone on this ship 'cept for Vix. So when I tell you you're safe, believe me. As long as Honor here keeps tryin' to 'learn to fight' we're all safe. He only gets dangerous when he hasn't seen blood in a while."

Honor stared up at them in quiet thoughtfulness. "I don't suppose you'd be insinuating that the captain has some strange fascination with other beast's pain, would you?" He inquired in a bland, polite tone.

"I blame his father." Aderyn replied as she finished with the cut on Honor's arm and stared angrily at his left eye which was, incidentally, swelling shut as they spoke. "Tried his best, of course. Taught Kydin all these amazing things. That otter knows more ways to kill beasts than I know how to heal them. But, what can you do with a cub? The king taught the prince that another's pain was a good thing, and that's all he ever learned. Still tryin' to keep his father happy, you know? Even though he's been dead for seasons."

"**_Aderyn_**!" Nidal hissed. "Don't speak of him like that."

"I told you, Nidal." Aderyn retorted with a strange gleam in her eyes. "He won't do _anything_ to me. And what can he do to Honor? Much more than this and he'll die. I don't like it. I don't like him knowin' exactly how far to go before a beast gets in real danger of dyin'. And I don't like how much he's changed. I don't _like_ this anymore. I want to go _home_."

"Everybody gets a breakdown." Ladin observed as he ducked in, looking alarmed. "Everybody but good ole _me_."

"Go jump off the ship." Honor suggested. "Does wonders for you. I promise."

"Oh, mate, I've been chunked off this ship more times than _you'll_ ever be." Ladin grinned, but it was strained.

Aderyn was frowning down at the pillow Honor's head was resting against. "Sit up." She commanded, sounding about ready to rip someone's head off. Naturally, Honor complied, glancing back at the pillow and frowning at the blood staining it.

Ladin gave a small hiss of commiseration. "Ow, mate, how'd you get that one?"

Honor reached up to touch the back of his head curiously. "I think I insulted Kydin's family line."

"I'm going to kill him." Aderyn said, and her voice was perfectly calm. She was serious. "I am going to put poison in his food."

"You can't be serious." Nidal said in a voice that sounded falsely surprised, fake. Almost as if…

"I am." Aderyn's voice, however, was completely sincere. "I am going to kill the captain."

"Aderyn, why don't you go? I can take care of the otter, and you and Nidal need to talk." Ladin spoke suddenly, his eyes on Honor, looking uneasy.

Aderyn's eyes narrowed, and Nidal frowned, eyes darkening. "Right, Ladin. Thanks." Aderyn muttered and turned to leave, followed closely by Nidal.

On the way out, after Aderyn had already exited, Ladin grabbed his twin's arm and whispered something sharp and fearful in his ear. The quieter twin scowled and shoved him away. "Don't you think I _know_?" He retorted and left after the doctor.

Ladin sighed, stomped around the room, and then fell backwards onto his cot. He turned his eyes on Honor, who was eyeing him warily. "'s your head really as bad as it looks?"

"No. Head wounds just bleed a lot."

"I know that." Ladin retorted and sighed, rubbing at his eyes. "Mate, anyone asks, you went momentarily deaf an' didn't hear _any_ of that, right? As a favor to me, cuz those two would never think to ask."

Honor blinked thoughtfully. "I suppose the captain would object to his life being threatened?"

Ladin sighed. "You haven't seen the side of him we have. Poor bastard's absolutely crazy. Just…just, if he asks, you didn't hear it, alright?"

Honor sighed and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. "Hear what?"

"Thank you, mate."

"Right."

…

"I've been getting the strangest impression that my crew is keeping secrets." The prince announced two days later as he stretched lazily, preparing to instruct Honor on the proper use of the fist as a weapon in what he called a "proper brawl."

"Really? How terribly interesting." Honor replied blandly, as he eyed the prince warily. Experience had taught him the prince enjoyed surprising others with vicious little tricks.

"'ere, otter, listen. We'll skip the instruction today if you tell me what you know. I jus' don't think you're ready for this one yet."

"Bribery?" Honor inquired, a grin flashing across his face. "You're stooping to bribery?"

"Not really." Kydin answered. "Jus' thought I'd give you something you mourn over later." He went from a stretching his elbow to slamming it into the other otter's face.

Honor jumped backwards instinctively and then swung out, his fist connecting wildly with the other otter's lip, barely even drawing blood. But that, it seemed, was enough to set Kydin off today.

Every now and then, Honor would do something that seemed to send the prince into a rage. There was no drawing him out of it. Honor simply had to wait until the prince ran out of energy. It was this rage, typically, that brought the majority of his bruises and cuts. And, today, it was no objection.

He ended up pinned against the mast, one forearm pressed against his throat as the other fist smashing repeatedly into his face, splitting his lip nearly to nothing.

"Look, mate," The prince hissed suddenly, his paw tightening around Honor's throat. "We 'ave a problem. My crew, see, they're keepin' secrets. Now, I really don't like it when they do that, so why don't you jus' tell me what you know? What do you owe them anyway? What 'ave they done for _you_ that's got you lyin' for 'em?"

"I never lied." Honor growled. "I _never_ lied to _anyone_."

"Oh?" Kydin asked, his grin wide and malicious. "Then what's my crew gettin' up to when they think I'm not payin' attention?"

Honor pressed his lips closed and glared, silent, defiant, angry.

Kydin let go of the other otter's neck and brought his right elbow across and then slammed it into the right side of Honor's face. The other otter fell to the ground, spitting up blood as he reached a paw up to touch his tattered cheek. "You think this is worth it?" Kydin demanded. "What's in it for you, mate? They signed you up for this. They _knew_ I knew, and they got you to lie for them."

"I _didn't_ **_lie_**!" Honor screamed, attempting to crawl backwards away from the prince, still holding the side of his face.

The prince raised a brow. "Oh?" He reached down, grabbed the otter by the shirtfront, yanked him to his feet, grabbed his right arm, and twisted it up behind his back. "Call it omission, then, I don't care. Point is that you're keepin' their secrets, and they knew you'd get hurt for it."

"Let _go of me_!" Honor cried and reached his left arm back, attempting to strike the captain's face. The captain merely grabbed his left arm and twisted it back as well.

"Aw, mate, why're you tryin' t'save them when you can't even save yourself?"

"**_Stop it_**!" He bellowed and slammed his head back, feeling it connect solidly with Kydin's skull.

"Damn, cub, don't you know when you're beat?" The prince asked, though he sounded a bit unsettled as he kicked at the otter's knees, causing them to buckle.

Honor let out a shriek as his arms twisted up to the very edge of breaking. "**_Stop it_**! **_Let me go_**!"

"Tell me what they said. That's all I want to know. It'll stop. I swear. I'll let you go, an' I might even take you back to your 'ome. Jus' tell me what they said."

"_I didn't **hear** anything_!" The otter twisted, desperately trying to relieve the stress on his arms.

"Didn't you?" Kydin inquired, his tone dangerously calm. "Look at 'em, mate. They've come to watch. Aren't they sweet?"

Honor lifted hit chin slowly and blinked, staring at Aderyn, Nidal, Ladin, Carden, and Vix, all of who were watching with stony faces. Zia was nowhere to be seen, and, for that at least, Honor was thankful.

"They're the ones that did this to you, an' they won't even help you. Go ahead, mate, call for 'em. They won't answer." Kydin spoke softly, so no one but he could hear.

"_Let me go_!" Honor cried and then let out another shriek as his right arm slipped up the tiniest bit more, and pain _screamed_ in his mind. "_Ladin_! _Make him **stop**_! _He's **crazy**_!"

Ladin's eyes connected with Honor's, and a flash of something like contempt crossed through them. And then the twins both turned their backs and disappeared below decks. Aderyn spared him a glance, muttered what sounded like a curse, and then followed. Carden and Vix vanished as well.

"Oooh, look at that, mate. Mutiny, secrets, **_and_** betrayal. What an eventful voyage."

"Where did they go?" Honor whispered, not understanding. "Where did they _go_?"

"Aw, they abandoned ya, mate. Why would they keep you around, anyway? You know too much, aye? An' they don't trust you. Can't. We don't know anythin' about you. Disposable, 's what they call it. They want me to kill you. They know I will. Keeps the blood off their paws. Why don't you jus' tell me what you know? Jus' a little bit of information, an' I'll stop."

Honor considered this, considered. He could tell. His arms begged him too. But…but…but…"**_No_**, _damn you_!" Honor hissed. "_I didn't **hear** anything_!"

There was a brief silence, and then, suddenly, his arms were released. "Come out now, you bastards. He's fine."

Honor rolled onto his back, clutching his screaming arms to him, watching the prince retreating into his cabin. He had two seconds of terrified confusion before Aderyn was crouching beside him, gently squeezing his arms. "Don't be broken." She muttered. "Don't be, don't be."

Ladin and Nidal appeared half a second after her, Nidal standing and glaring angrily at the door that Kydin had gone through, and Ladin crouching beside Aderyn. "'s 'e alright?" He demanded, his voice hoarse with something. He cleared his throat.

Vix and Carden appeared next, Vix with Zia clutching his paw and beaming at Honor. "Vix says you're safe!" She told him cheerfully.

"Get **_off me_**!" Honor bellowed, shoving at Aderyn and Ladin. "Who _are you_?"

Aderyn blinked. "Did he hit your head? I didn't see it, but I-"

"_You left me with a **psycho**_!"

"We had to test your loyalty." Vix told him solemnly. "We didn't know if you were safe."

"Oh." Honor's expression grew dark as he stood up, shoving Aderyn away again when she reached for his arm. "And what about _your_ loyalty? Why should I trust _any_ of you after _that_?"

"Come on, mate, it's alright." Ladin answered, his tone sympathetic and soothing. "We wouldn't let him really hurt you. We were standin' right out of sight, listenin'. We would've come if we heard screamin'."

"Yes?" Honor growled. "And what would've happened if I'd told about those little…**_whatever_** it was that was going on?"

"Nothin' was going on." Nidal replied softly. "It was all…all a lie. To test to see if _you_ would lie. For us."

"I never lied." Honor snarled. "Maybe took things a bit too literal for common sense, but I _never_ lied!"

"Say what you want, mate." Vix remarked distantly. "You're a real pirate now."

Honor closed his eyes tightly. "I think I'm going to scream now." He told them distantly.

"Honor, please, let me check you arms." Aderyn coaxed. "They may be broken and I-"

"No. No, just…just stop talking." He spoke, his voice strained and quiet. He took several deep breaths, and seemed to calm a little. "Now, will someone please explain to me why you just let the crazy bastard _torture_ me to get _fake_ information?"

"To test your loyalty." Ladin answered softly.

"I don't suppose I should be surprised. I imagine among _pirates_, loyalty would _have_ to be tested." He glared at them all. "You're all bastards. I just really **_really_** want you to know that." And then he turned his back and went stalking away.

"Where're you goin'?" Ladin called after him.

"Off to talk to the **_crazy bastard_**!" Honor bellowed.

The crew eyed each other warily. "I think, perhaps, we should start with dinner." Carden suggested uneasily.

"Perfect." Ladin agreed nervously. "Food solves _everything_."

…

Kydin looked up wearily as Honor burst into his cabin, slammed the door, and stalked over, standing over him as the prince lay in his hammock. "Yes?" The captain asked, his tone tired and polite.

Honor squinted. "I just don't think I've ever been this close to a genuine lunatic before."

Kydin snorted. "If you're lookin' for an apology, there won't be one. I don't apologize for what's necessary."

"_Necessary_? I am **_no threat_** to you! Once you reach land, I'm leaving! Going back home! _Why_ did you need to test my loyalty? I won't even be **_involved_** when you're off doing things-things that-" he waved his paws wildly, "things that require tested loyalty!"

"Oh, stop lyin'." Kydin suggested. "You know as well as I do that you're gonna stay with us."

"**_What_**?" Honor shrieked.

"Where else're you gonna go, mate? You're not goin' home. These days, when I mention it, you don't look wistful. You look terrified. You're gonna delay leavin' for home as long as possible. Best way to do that is to fall in with a bunch of pirates and die young."

Honor glared at him. "I have _not-_"

"Yes, you have. You jus' haven't admitted it, yet. An' don't let me hear you yellin' at my crew again, aye? I don't like it, and they were jus' followin' orders."

Honor's paws clenched dangerously but then he sighed, seeming to sag. "How much of it was a lie?"

"Some of it. All of it, according to the crew. They don't really wanna kill me, but they aren't happy with me currently, either."

Honor closed his eyes. "I can't believe how crazy you creatures are."

"Jus'….jus' go get somethin' to eat. They'll undoubtedly try to win you back with food."

"I hate you." Honor told him.

"You do not." Kydin retorted. "You hate that you can't hate me."

"No, no. I'm pretty sure I hate _you_."

"Sure you do, mate. Go eat."

"Aren't you coming, then?"

"No. I think I'll stay here and brood about my role in the world. Tell Vix to stop by later with the leftovers, aye?"

"I hope you choke on them."

"I'll try, mate. Jus' for you."


	3. Chapter Three

((So…wow…it's been awhile. And this story is turning out to be even more damaging to the usual perception of Redwall than my others. Makes sense, I suppose. After all, this one _is_ about otter pirates…I honestly don't know if I can pack more emotional scaring into Vix without completely ruining his character. But it's certainly going to be fun trying.))

…

"You gonna be alright, Cyma?" Luke demanded, snarling at the nearest group of creatures. They scattered, leaving their fallen comrades and seeking someone a little less muscular to harass.

"Always." Cyma forced out through bared teeth as she clutched at her right arm. "Bastards always go for my _right_ arm! What _is_ this? A conspiracy?"

Luke glanced at her, his eyes still wild from the skirmish. "You use your left, don't you?"

"It still _hurts_." Cyma complained and pulled her left paw away from the wound high on her right, revealing a bloody gash. She swayed a bit, gasping. "Damn, it hurts."

Luke put his boot knife back in his boot and hurried over to her. "Let me see it." He ordered.

She stretched her arm out slowly, wincing. "Have a look-see. Tell me if it needs amputation."

Luke stared at her arm angrily, biting his lower lip as he always did when confused or thoughtful. "No amputation, but I think you'd better sit down."

"Not fighting _that _suggestion." Cyma muttered and sagged numbly against the wall behind her, sliding down to the ground. "Think 'm gonna pass out."

"You're just hungry and running low on blood." Luke told her encouragingly. "You can sleep if you want."

Cyma snorted and gave him a long, calculating look. "I suppose you'll rescue me if our fellow inmates come after my guts?"

"Worked last time." Luke retorted with a shrug, looking away from her and scanning the crowded pit the prisoners were forced to survive in.

"Well, thank you for the offer, Luke, but I don't trust anyone with my life." Cyma retorted. "Just give me some o' that water, an' I'll be alright."

Luke sighed and fished the small flask of clean water out of her pack. He didn't asked how she'd got it in a place like this. He imagined it involved several murders. "Here you go."

"Thanks." She lifted it to her lips with her left paw and swallowed about half a mouthful before giving it back. "If you gotta guard somethin', guard _that_. 's worth more than I am down here."

"Nothing is worth more than life." Luke argued. "Especially a life like yours."

Cyma rolled her eyes. "Lemme guess, Luke, you haven't seen much death?"

"I've killed before." Luke answered, sounding almost defensive as he slid down the wall to sit beside her, still tense and bloody from the fight.

"I know you've _killed_ before. I just watched you kill five weasels and a stoat. Congratulations on the stoat, by the way. He was an ugly one."

"Thank you." Luke seemed a bit unnerved, as if he wasn't sure that was the appropriate thing to say.

"Anyway, my point is," Cyma hissed suddenly and slammed her head back against the wall, clutching at her arm.

"What?" Luke demanded, tensing up even more. "What is it?"

"Nothing. It's nothing." Cyma snapped at him. "Damn, Kydin better get here soon."

"Kydin?"

"Those pirates I told you about. Don't you scowl at me! It's the only way out!" She rolled her eyes at him again. "You are so self-righteous."

As he always did when they started to argue, Luke smiled. "I know."

"Oh, shut up. I'm in pain."

"So, you were sayin'?" He awkwardly attempted to distract her. "About me not seeing much death?"

"Oh, right. That." She narrowed her eyes and stared into the distance for a second, fighting the pain until she could manage it. "You ever had a family member gutted in front of you, Luke?"

"No."

"A friend?"

"No."

"What about an acquaintance?"

"_No_! Why? Am I _supposed_ to've seen one of my friends get his guts pulled out by now? Is there some unwritten law in this part of the world?"

"No. Just ask everybody else here, Luke. We've all lost friends. Everyone but you."

"I've lost friends, Cyma." Luke said in a strange, tight voice. "I was just never there when they died."

"Oh, really? Was it old age, Luke?" Cyma inquired in a mildly mocking voice. "Did the bees at that abbey of yours get a bit rambunctious and-"

"I wasn't **_born_** at the abbey, Cyma." Luke's tone was dark now, dismissive. He didn't want to talk. "You don't get _killers_ from a peaceful place like that."

Cyma stared at him, incredulous. "You're not ashamed of _killing_ are you?"

"Yes, I'm ashamed of killing! It's _wrong_. You're taking something away from the world that it'll never get back."

"You can't be sorry for killing _vermin_. They _deserve_ to die!"

"No. Nothing deserves to die. And once you kill something, you're just another killer. There are _millions_ of killers, Cyma. I never wanted to be one of them."

"You just decapitated a weasel."

"We don't always get what we want."

…

Honor was roused from his bed by loud and overly excited cries out on deck. Stretching weary joints, he went to investigate and found, to his utter surprise, that land was in sight. All the members of the crew were crowded on deck, all grinning like they hadn't seen land in seasons.

"Shray, mate!" Ladin told him excited, running over to him. "We're gonna dock at Shray!"

"What's that mean?" Honor demanded, rubbing at tired eyes.

"It _means_ vacation!" Ladin informed him. "A day on shore!"

"Don't get too excited." Nidal remarked darkly. "Last time we were here, they wouldn't even let us dock."

"Only cuz Carden owed the dock guard money and wouldn't pay it." Ladin retorted. The squirrel looked around for the mouse in question. "Oy! Carden! You got money to pay that debt o' yours?"

Carden, who was busy laughing with Aderyn, glanced over and waved a paw. "Don't worry 'bout it, mate. 's taken care of, I promise."

"Means _someone_ died." Ladin translated for Honor as Nidal took it upon himself to go off and spew his pessimistic views to someone else. "And as long as it's not someone I like, I really don't care."

Honor glanced at the island and frowned lightly. "What sort of place is this…this Shray?"

"Aw, mate, it's the sorta place you'll have dreams about the rest of your life." Kydin told him, appearing out of nowhere to throw his arm around the smaller otter's shoulders and smirk like the demon he was. "Now, whether those dreams are nightmares or not…that's completely up to you."

Honor shrugged the prince's arm off and scowled nervously. "Is it…some kind of pirate town?"

"The only island in the world where vermin and creatures like you an' me coexist. Not peacefully, o' course, but I'd say the otters kill as many squirrels as they kill rats." Kydin's eyes glittered. "'s no such thing as bigotry in Shray, mate. Everyone hates everyone."

…

There was a slight disturbance when they docked. Or, at least, the murder of two dock guards and a fatally inquisitive fish, which, Honor was assured, was only a tiny percentage of the disturbance they usually created. Apparently, they liked to make an entrance but, out of respect for him, were keeping the body count to a minimum.

Carden carried Zai around on his shoulders, keeping her secured even when she scrambled her fiercest to be free. Ladin and Nidal moved together, appearing to have suddenly decided that they couldn't be any more than ten paces from each other ever again. Aderyn had two daggers strapped at her waist and stood with the twins. Vix stayed near Kydin, but Kydin seemed to have stopped caring about his crew as he led them down the dock and towards the city which was, apparently, celebrating something.

"What're they celebrating?" Honor demanded, scurrying up to Ladin, Nidal, and Aderyn.

"Nothin', mate." Ladin retorted. "'s 'ow they live."

"You can't be serious." Honor stared at the rioting revelry in the streets. "How does anyone _survive_?"

"Oh, they manage." Nidal drawled.

"_Daddy_!" A shrieking voice rang out. Honor tensed. "**_Daddy_**!"

"Aw, lookit." Ladin smirked over a Vix, who had been attacked by a mouse a quarter of his size. The first mate calmly peeled the small mouse off his ankles, and they exchanged more composed greetings.

"Vix has a _child_?" Honor demanded.

"Not really." Aderyn told him quietly. "It's not his. There's a whole sickeningly sentimental story behind it, but the basic point is that the little one's mother told him Vix is his father, and Vix doesn't have the heart to tell Livrec it's a lie."

"Vix has a heart?" Did the surprises never end?

"Oh, he hides it well, but he's got a conscience bigger than Carden's head." Ladin told him with a grin.

"Heard that!" Carden rumbled.

"Was meant too!" Ladin bellowed back.

"Crew!" Kydin bellowed and everyone herded over to him like a good little crew. "We're here until nightfall, understand? No longer."

"Of course!" Ladin remarked, and he and Nidal disappeared into the crowd far too easily. Aderyn nodded once, and was gone. Carden and Zai went off in a vaguely eastern direction, and Honor found himself all alone with Kydin, Vix, a small mouse clinging to Vix, and a rapidly approaching female mouse who looked as if life had ripped her soul out through her eyes and devoured it in front of her.

"Hello, Hasia," Vix greeted the she-mouse quietly.

"Hello, Vix." She replied with a patience born of weariness. "How long are you here?"

"Until sunset." Vix replied, and it was obvious that the conversation between them was strained at best. Honor decided that Vix didn't appreciate Hasia's little stretch of the truth.

"Have you met our newest crewmate?" Kydin broke in rapidly, gesturing to Honor. "Honor, meet Hasia. The mouse who lies to cubs."

Honor's grayish eyes met Hasia's brown ones, and he nodded to her. "Pay no attention to Kydin's insults." He suggested. "He's a hypocrite."

"This one is rather insubordinate. We all look forward to the day when we break his poor little spirit into splinters." Kydin remarked with a wide, wicked grin. He shoved Honor in the direction the crowd was going. "Have fun today, Honor!" He called as Honor was dragged, resisting the entire way, along with the crowd.

…

Somehow, as the sun began to set, the crew found itself all firmly located in the same building. It was a strange mixture of the apparent necessities on this island, with a fully stocked bar, several ways to gamble away any currency you had, and backrooms Honor had quickly decided not to investigate. He sat in a hard wooden chair next to Carden, who was playing cards with a weasel, a ferret, and a squirrel. Carden was winning, and Zai was cheering him on. Nidal and Ladin were in a card game of their own while Aderyn, Vix, and Kydin lounged towards the back of the main room, several unknown females all around and paying particular attention to Kydin.

"I don't like this one bein' here." The weasel decided suddenly, glaring at Honor. "If he's not gonna play, he can't sit here."

"Aw, come on." Carden remarked in a vaguely defensive way. "He's not harming anythin'."

"I don't like it." The weasel repeated, narrowing his eyes.

"Fine." Honor stood up. "I was bored anyway." And, with that, he went wandering in the direction of the exit.

"We heard you were part of Kydin's crew." A group of assorted vermin, all with an odd design tattooed into the skin right below their right eye, suddenly appeared around him.

"Maybe." Honor replied, watching them surround him. "Why does it matter?"

"Doesn't. We're just curious, 's all." The weasel who had spoken before announced. The group surrounding Honor started walking towards one of those backrooms he'd been avoiding, and Honor, not quite sure what was happening, allowed himself to be herded in that direction.

"Curious about what?" Honor asked, glancing over his shoulder towards the crew as he followed along.

"Things." The weasel said and opened one of the doors, stepping inside. Honor froze in the doorway, suddenly very sure he didn't want to follow the weasel anymore, but was pushed inside and shoved into a seat at the lone table in the room.

"What d'you want?" Honor demanded as the rest of the group of five filed into the room and closed the door behind them.

"We want to ask you where the prince is heading." The weasel told him as she leaned forward, glaring at him. "Where's he going?"

"Back to the ship eventually." Honor told him, pretending to be confused. _I think, perhaps, I might be in trouble_.

"'s not what we meant, and you know it." The weasel snapped and gestured. The other four creatures approached Honor menacingly, and the otter stood up slowly, knowing he'd never make it to the door before they caught him.

"I wouldn't do that, if I was you, mate." A soft voice accompanied the sound of a door creaking open. There, in the doorway, was Kydin's entire crew, Kydin included. More beasts crammed in behind them, twelve or so of the female otters that had seemed to find Kydin so amusing. They didn't look very pretty anymore as they bared teeth and snarled silently.

"We were jus' talkin' to him." The weasel snapped. "He came willingly."

"Only cuz he's damn stupid." Kydin retorted. "And way too nice for his own health. Come on, Honor. You shouldn't jus' follow along with every idiot that talks to you."

Honor thought that he should object to some of the more offensive things just said about him, but he was still stuck back on the relief he'd felt when he'd seen the crew. "Sorry, Kydin," He finally answered, shrugging. "They seemed like nice enough types."

"Oh, they'll fool ya, mate." Kydin agreed, eyeing the five vermin like one would eye a dead fish at a market. "But it's about time to leave, so say your goodbyes and let's go."

Honor turned to the five vermin and gave them a weak smile. "I've had a lovely time, but captain says I have to go now. Goodnight." And, with that, he fled to the relative safety of the crew's presence.

…

The most interesting event of the evening happened when Honor was just about to risk going back to the ship by himself. Ladin and Nidal had disappeared, along with Carden and Zai. Aderyn, in keeping with Kydin's assistance that no crewmate go alone, had gone with Vix so that Vix could spend time with his "son." So, it was Honor and Kydin, and Kydin was far too interested in his little harem to pay attention to Honor.

And, so, Honor was bored, half-drunk, and pretty much convinced that the five vermin who _still_ had not stopped following him were going to kill him whether Kydin was here or not. _Best to get myself killed when Kydin isn't there to point and laugh, _he decided pessimistically and headed for the door.

He opened the door to find himself face-to-face with a she-otter. She frowned at him thoughtfully. "Honor." She decided. "Right?"

He stared. "Uh…"

"They're calling you the jester." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Did you know?"

"Uh…"

"At first, they were calling you the fool." She shrugged. "I talked them out of it."

"Um…thank you?"

She smiled at him. "No need for thanks, mate. I did it because I wanted to. Now…" she peered around suspiciously, "whose morals is my prince corrupting?"

Honor decided to just stare. And point. He pointed right at Kydin and hoped for the best.

"Ah," she breathed, "_I_ see."

And then, drawing a very long, wicked looking knife, lunged onto the nearest table and went sprinting across the various tables, booths, and creatures in her way until she launched herself, knife-first, at Kydin.

And a two otter riot broke out.

Everyone stepped back, pressing up against walls, as something like a furred tornado ripped the place apart. Bodies slammed against walls, shattered tables, crushed chairs. A raging gambling trade erupted based on the outcome of the fight, and Honor optimistically placed all the money Carden had given him on the she-otter.

His optimism died, however, when the five vermin from before arrived with a dozen or so of their closest buddies. He stared up at them in weary wariness as they closed in.

"_Oy_!" A feminine voice bellowed, and the furry force of nature broke apart, became two otters, and then promptly began pummeling Honor's almost-attackers.

Honor felt very special indeed as every single one of the bar-goers glared hell at him for ruining the fight.

Finally, though it was all over, and the she-otter threw her arm around Honor's shoulders as if she had known him all her life. "Y'see this otter," she bellowed out to the creatures in the bar, "_this_ is the jester. He's my new special friend. Everyone say hello."

Dutifully, the bar greeted him, "Hello, Jester."

Honor stared. The she-otter looked at him expectantly, and then sighed. "He's more of the silent type, I s'ppose. Should've known that. Kydin can't _stand_ anyone with a backbone."

"Explains why I like you." Kydin called out from his current location behind the bar. The bartender had been murdered sometime during the last few hours, and Kydin, apparently, was making his own drink.

"Explains why you kicked me off your ship." The she-otter corrected loudly. The masses laughed. She looked at Honor. "C'mon, Jester. I wanna speak with you."

And so, once again, Honor found himself led off to one of the back rooms. Only, this time, there was no menacing or threats. The she-otter hurled herself onto a comfortable looking couch, and winced. "Ah, I _hate_ fightin' that bastard. Never loses, I swear."

"Who _are_ you?"

She looked at him and winked broadly. "I'm the dread pirate Riya." She informed him. "Captain of the only all female ship in the history of piratin'."

"Riya here has a certain…_prejudice_ against males." Kydin explained as he walked in, smirking.

Riya glanced at him. "Not against _males_, mate. Against them on my ship."

"Why?" Honor inquired, mystified by this strange custom.

"They're bad luck." Riya explained as if it should be obvious. "Why d'you think their ships always sink?"

"She's got us there, mate." Kydin shrugged helplessly as he handed a drink to Riya.

She drained it in a gulp and then hissed. "That _burns_. What _is_ it?"

"Poison." Kydin answered smugly.

"You wouldn't kill me." Riya taunted. "Who'd be there to make you feel like an idiot?"

"Aderyn."

"Ah, yes, my genius apprentice. Never did get the nagging right, though. Too much whine, not enough physical beating."

"Well, not everyone can be as incredibly masculine as you." Kydin complimented cheerfully.

Honor choked. Riya glared. "'_Masculine_?'"

"_Muscular_." Kydin corrected. "'s what I said. Didn't I, Honor?"

"You called her masculine." Honor replied, his words slightly slurred. Perhaps he was more than half-drunk.

"Aw, he's cute, Kydin." Riya noticed darkly. "What is he doin' on your ship?"

"Would you take him?" Kydin suddenly sounded hopeful. "I mean, put a wig on 'em and-"

"'e's too young to be a pirate."

"This from you."

"I was mature for my age."

"You were pickin' pockets before you could chew your food."

"Had to get food to chew from somewhere."

Kydin sighed and kicked Riya's feet off the couch, moving quickly to lounge in the abandoned space. "So, Riya, tell me who's planning to kill me."

"Well, Nizril's lot's been after you ever since that unfortunate event with his sister." Riya glared at Kydin reproachfully as Kydin smirked in appreciation of his past misdeeds. Honor, wisely, decided not to ask. "Then there's the usual bunch. Jol, Baisin, Nereck, Aslik, Ark."

"Ark? I thought he liked me."

"He did. Right up until you stole his cargo and burned his ship."

"Oh, right. Forgot that."

Riya rolled her eyes. "If you can't play nice, Kydin, the least you could do is keep track of your enemies."

"That, my friend, would be focusing on the negative side of life." Honor watched in blank confusion as this conversation wound on. He had the definite feeling he was only here because he couldn't be trusted to look after himself.

Riya frowned. "Hikin's after you now."

Kydin's mouth tightened and his eyes suddenly grew serious. "I take it our lord's taken a turn for the worse, then?"

"Indeed. Can barely lift his cutlass now. No one's making a move to kill him, what with his considerably powerful allies, but…you know how it is. Everyone's tryin' t'pressure him into naming an heir."

"And you think he'll choose me."

"Of course he will." Riya sounded offended. "Hikin's only out to get you cuz he knows he's second best."

Kydin frowned. "I wish I had your blind faith, Riya."

"It's not blind _faith_, Kydin. You know our lord and the king were-"

"My father is dead." Kydin's eyes flashed and, for the first time in this conversation, his tone turned dangerous. "What power I had through him vanished the day he died."

"No. It _didn't_ Kydin. Larkin thought of your father as a brother. Even now, seasons after the king's death, he still calls you his favorite '_nephew_.' If our lord died now, I'd wager all my riches that the throne would go to you."

Kydin was silent for several long minutes. "That doesn't matter." He decided suddenly. "I have more important things to do than to stay here and worry about the throne."

"Oh?"

"Cyma has asked for my help."

Riya looked surprised. "I wondered why I had not heard form her for so long."

Kydin shrugged. "We are a few days' sail away, and there is significant reason to rush." He stood. "I might visit you again, if this is where Cyma wants to be transported."

Riya nodded slowly and then grinned, lazily, mischievously. "Tell me, Prince, if you're in such a rush to rescue Cyma, why did you stop here at all?

Kydin scowled. "Perhaps I came to see you."

Her grin morphed into a smirk. "I can still tell every time you lie."

Kydin scowled and stalked out of the room, leaving Honor behind. By the time Honor had surged to his paws and made it out the backroom's door, the prince was lost in the crowd. Honor, naturally, had no idea how to get back to the ship.

"Don't worry, mate." Riya told him soothingly from right behind him. "I'll take you back to your ship."

He looked at her. "I think I can find my own-"

"You can't." Riya looped her arm through his and pulled him towards the exit. "It'll do you good, besides. T'be seen with me. Smile."

Obediently, Honor smiled. "Why?" He asked as she led them out onto the dark streets of Shray.

"A lot of what goes on here…a lot of things that can happen here, depend on who you know and who beasts _think_ you know. Now, Kydin is somewhat of a notorious figure here. His father kinda ruled this island, when he bothered to stop by. Our lord, Larkin, favors Kydin's ship and Kydin himself above every other pirating ship on the oceans. But Kydin…well, he doesn't even acknowledge that he _has_ power. He makes far too many powerful enemies and doesn't care at all. I'd say about half the island wants him dead."

"The other half?"

"Loves him. Thinks he's the greatest pirate ever." She rolled her eyes. "Naturally, he doesn't care either way. You ask me, even if Larkin offered him the throne, he wouldn't take it. He's…odd about things that should've gone to his father."

"His father? The king?"

"He's told you about that, aye? Not often that he does that. Doesn't like talkin' about his past." She stopped, tightening her grip on his arm to stop him, as well. Her eyes scanned the darkness. Then she started forward again.

"Who's Cyma?"

"Cyma? She was one of my crew once. Got the wanderlust, though, and left to go on adventures with that damn seagull of hers."

"You were on Kydin's ship once?"

"Oh, aye. _Way_ back. Back before my father let me captain my own ship. He only wanted me on the king's boat. Wouldn't let me on any others."

"Why?"

"Well, they were the best of friends. Kydin's father and mine." Suddenly several dark shadows sulked into the light, and seven females of all different species were walking next to them. "Meet some o' my crew, Honor."

Honor looked around. He got various impressions of faces, expressions, scars, weapons, and jewelry but couldn't seem to concentrate on any of the forms. This could have been their skill at staying in the shadows, or it could be his inexperience with drunkenness.

The group of them walked silently for several minutes, finally stopping at the dock Honor remembered. "We are not allowed onto that dock." Riya informed him, sending a scathing look at a female weasel who snickered evilly. "We have been banned."

"For what?" Honor inquired.

"For nothing." Riya snapped rather forcefully. The weasel's laughter grew. "It _wasn't_ funny, Vyla!"

"Aw, y'know it was." The weasel coaxed. "You _laughed_."

"Those were sobs of hysteria." Riya informed her tartly. Suddenly, though, she frowned and looked at Honor, her concentration shifting from crewmate to current burden. "I can't walk you to your ship, and it's not safe for you to go alone."

"I'm not completely helpless, you know." Honor pointed out.

"And I refused to come to this side of the island without an entourage." Riya pointed out, gesturing at her crew.

"I'll watch him." A voice spoke up, and, abruptly, Vix appeared on the outskirts of the gathered group. Riya's crew jumped, several scattering away. Riya herself had a knife out and poised to throw, barely managing to stop herself in time. The mouse stared at them blankly.

"How many times am I gonna have to stab you before you remember to make some damn _noise_?" Riya demanded, hissing in annoyance as she made her knife disappear.

"Honestly, Vix." Another crewmate, this one a mouse with a pierced ear, chimed up. "It's not natural."

Vix smiled tightly, apparently concerned about something. "As always, ladies, it is lovely to run into you, but my crewmate and I are late getting back to the ship as it is…"

"Oh, right, take 'em." Riya said, gently shoving Honor towards Vix. "We'll be seein' you two later. Gotta go kill a couple more idiots before sunrise." And, abruptly, Riya and her entire crew disappeared.

Vix seemed to watch the shadows for several long seconds, and then, slowly, meaningfully, turned his back on them. "Come on." He said, not quite an order, but not exactly a suggestion, and started walking away. Honor followed.

A tense silence fell over the both of them, especially when Vix came to a stop before reaching the ship. He turned around and stared at the island. Something about his posture said his thoughts were not happy ones.

Honor decided, of all the stupid things he could do, to cheer Vix up. "So…how's Livrec?"

Vix twitched as if Honor had slapped him. His eyes turned cold and shifted to the otter. "Why do you ask?"

"I just…wanted to know?"

Vix's eyes narrowed until the point that Honor was _sure_ the mouse was going to punch him for some deranged reason, and then, abruptly, he relaxed. "How can he be? His mother is a liar, and his father…isn't me."

"Why d'you let him think you are?"

"What would you do?" Vix demanded harshly. He sighed, shifted, stared up at the stars. "No cub should grow up without a father."

Honor frowned, considering. He spoke his next words with infinite care. "But no cub should grow up believing a lie…"

Vix turned to consider him, head tilted to the side, eyes gleaming in the moonlight. Finally, he shrugged. "You make concessions in life, otter. You're given two evils, and you have to choose between them. There is never a flat choice between good and evil. Never a decision that can be made that isn't going to hurt _somebody_."

"But you're hurting _Livrec-_"

"No." Vix shook his head, a thin mockery of a smile pulling at his lips. "By the time he figures it out, he'll be old enough to hate me. I'll take his hate, otter. And d'you know why?"

"Absolutely no idea." Honor admitted, staring at this mad mouse in front of him.

"Because when you make a decision about how to break a heart you love, you always chose the option that'll cause _them_ the least amount of pain."

"But I don't unders-"

"And you never want to." Vex informed him. "Come on." The conversation died abruptly as Vix led him back to the ship.

…

Kydin lounged in his chair, listening to Vix's speech on how long it would take to reach land. "So…soon, then?" Kydin broke in, bored.

Vix paused and then nodded. "If the wind holds."

Kydin thought this over. "Ladin has healed, hasn't he?"

Vix looked slightly troubled. "Aderyn claims that despite the squirrel's prancing about, he is still too weak for this mission."

"And why does she say that?"

"She says his leg won't hold up to any major action. That, if it came to a fight, he couldn't take it."

Kydin sighed. "Well, we have no choice but to take the youngling in his place, then."

"Zai?" Vix inquired, eyes widening.

"Unfortunately, no. Someone far more useless."

"Honor?"

"Yes."

"He won't like it. This isn't a good mission to send him on. It's too…" Vix shrugged, not knowing how to properly express his feelings.

"Not too difficult, surely."

"Maybe not for his _body_." Vix agreed. "But his mind is a different matter."

Kydin frowned at this. It was true; the only thing this mission should challenge would be Honor's preconceptions of good and evil. And, as far as the prince could tell, Honor was still suffering from his previous world-changing experiences. "If he's too weak for this life, best to find out sooner rather than later, aye?"

Vix stiffened a bit. "Aderyn says you've been pushing him too hard."

Kydin's lip curled. "Don't hide behind the squirrel, mate. You wanna say something, _you_ say it."

A decidedly displeased glint entered the mouse's eyes. "I have never hesitated to challenge you before. I do not do so now. It is my duty to inform you on the crew's feelings. I was only trying to do that."

"I don't understand my crew anymore." Kydin muttered, frowning. "You never used to be so sentimental."

"Excuse me?"

"Even Zai didn't bring out such disgustingly protective instincts. Not even in Aderyn."

Vix tilted his head, a curiously thoughtful expression in his eyes that Kydin recognized as the mouse's expression of absolute fury. "You are making assumptions again, Kydin."

"And are they wrong? Can you honestly tell me, if I decided to kill the idiot, that you wouldn't stop me?"

"There has always been a difference between war and murder, Kydin. Slaughtering the innocent would cross that line."

"'_Innocent_?'" Kydin mocked. "You know as well as I do where he comes from. _Who_ he comes from. We lost blood to them, Vix. We lost _lives_."

"Is that what this has been about? You've been harsher on him than on any of us. Is this all because of who he _used_ to be?"

"You can't change what you come from. Can't change what you _are_."

Vix's eyes darkened, and his tone grew harsh. "That explains _you_ well enough."

Kydin leapt to his feet, eyes blazing. "Fine, Vix, is this what you want? Another fight?"

Vix's eyebrows quirked upwards, and, in his typically unnoticed humor, he replied, "Kydin, it is what I live for."

…

Honor stared in amazement as Vix and Kydin burst onto the deck in a flurry of movement and a clash of swords. Aderyn grabbed him and Ladin and pushed them up against the railing, eyes narrowed with anger. "What's going on?" Honor demanded as Ladin glared and shoved Aderyn's arm away. However, the squirrel did not, Honor noticed, move away from the rails.

"Sibling rivalry, mate." Ladin informed him. "_Violent_ sibling rivalry."

"They can't be related!" Honor objected. "Vix is a _mouse_!"

"So they don't share blood. What's blood, anyway? They were raised together by the same father, you know." Ladin informed him.

"The king?" Honor inquired. "Where were Vix's parents?"

"Well, he doesn't like to talk about it, does he?" Ladin evaded.

Aderyn shot Ladin a glance and then looked at Honor. "His father killed his mother, and the king killed him. One of those lovely dramas played out on the shores of Shray. There's a reason it's called the Island of Orphans, mate."

"I didn't know it was called that." Ladin mused. Aderyn shot him a disgusted look, and Ladin grinned.

"Is that why he's so…touchy about Livrec?" Honor asked.

Ladin shrugged. "I dunno, mate. Vix an' I've been crewmates for seasons, and the longer I spend with him and Kydin the more I realize I know absolutely nothing about them." He shrugged. "Would make sense, though."

Honor's eyes followed Vix and Kydin as Vix's sword flourished and _twitched_, sending Kydin's flying. But any victory Vix felt was short-lived as Kydin tackled the smaller mouse and threw his sword out of reach. The fight continued.

"You aren't gonna stop 'em?" Honor asked the squirrel curiously.

"What? With just you, me, an' her?" Ladin gestured at Aderyn. "'Fraid we're not feelin' suicidal enough today, mate. But, if you feel up to it, you just go and try it."

Honor, who had learned recently that if Ladin wasn't reckless enough to do it, it was far too dangerous to even attempt, just shook his head. "No. I think I'll just…watch."

"Good idea. 's what I always do." Ladin observed. Aderyn, however, turned and stalked off.

"Where's she goin'?" Honor asked.

"T'find Carden and Nidal, I expect." Ladin shrugged. "She never let's 'em finish fighting anymore. Says she doesn't have the energy for it."

Honor winced, still watching the increasingly bloody fight. "I can't _imagine_ why." He muttered.

"Me either. Specially considerin' how many of _us_ she's gonna have to bandage after we stop 'em."

"What? What d'you mean?"

"Well, they don't fight much, do they? So when they do, it all kinda explodes. They want to gouge each other's eyes out and spit in the sockets. Get rather violent towards us when we try an' pull 'em apart."

"How can they run a ship?"

"Oh, they're the best o' friends after. I've often thought if we could all have a friendship like theirs we'd be a lot happier. Just…y'know, punch your best friend in the face when they get too annoying, have a nice good fight, and then have it just be _over_ with. But it never works that way with anyone else. Take it too personal, if you ask me."

"I can imagine they'd hold a grudge." Honor agreed. "I don't think normal creatures could handle pain like that _without_ holding a grudge."

Ladin waved an arm in a dismissive gesture. "Ah, pain. You should hear the lunatics go on about pain."

Honor winced. "I have." He admitted. "Kydin, anyway."

"Vix is worse, mate. He's got this whole…_philosophy_."

"Will I hate it?" Honor inquired.

"Depends on your take on justice over vengeance, mate."

"There's a difference?"

"Now, you see," Ladin grinned, "that right there is what makes me like you."

…

Kydin and Vix inhabited the other two cots in Aderyn's little healing room that night. For some reason, Honor couldn't sleep. Quite possibly it was the fear that Kydin would murder him while he dreamed that fueled his insomnia. The prince had been giving him murderous looks the entire time Aderyn was bandaging him and hadn't stopped even when Honor half-closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.

And it was because of his inability to sleep that he heard Kydin climb slowly out of his cot.

Opening his eyes the slightest bit, Honor watched suspiciously at the prince moved to stand over him, apparently unable to tell in the darkness that Honor wasn't really asleep. The prince reached for his belt and drew out a long knife. He looked at it for a while, glanced over at Vix, and then back down at Honor. Honor tried not to react, tried not to show he was awake. Somehow, he thought, if he just _pretended_ hard enough to be asleep, if he didn't move _at all_, Kydin with just walk away.

And, strangely enough, that's exactly what the prince did. Just put his knife up and walked away.

Honor gathered his courage for several minutes before getting up to follow him.

He found Kydin leaning against the rails, staring directly at him. It looked disturbingly as if he had been waiting. Waiting for Honor to become brave enough to venture out into the darkness.

"What're you doing out here?" Honor inquired, moving to stand several feet away. For some reason he didn't feel at all safe anywhere near Kydin right now. His mind kept supplying him with images of Kydin using that knife of his to slice him open.

"I was wondering," Kydin informed him, "how long it would take you to follow me."

"You knew I was awake?"

"You knew I was?" Kydin replied and turned to face the sea. "Come over here, Honor. I won't eat you."

"You didn't say you wouldn't hurt me."

"I never make promises I'm not damn certain I can keep." The prince retorted. "And you're not my favorite otter right now."

"How come every relationship you have somehow incorporates violence?" Honor asked suddenly.

"Because violence is a beautiful thing."

"Violence brings pain. Pain _hurts_."

Kydin laughed, greatly amused by this. "Oh, you poor idiot. Haven't you realized yet that every relationship you'll ever have will hurt you?"

"That's not true." Honor challenged.

Kydin smirked, shaking his head. "Oh, yes, it is. Maybe not deeply, maybe not even so bad that you'll notice. But every relationship hurts you somehow."

"So does loneliness."

"And there it is. We're made to be miserable."

"There's happiness somewhere."

"Oh, yes. After we die, I imagine we'll all be quite happy."

Honor rolled his eyes. "Then why don't you just go kill yourself?"

Kydin shrugged, grinning. "Because I hate this world. There is absolutely nothing I can do it once I'm dead. As it is, I'll ruin as much of this world as possible before it finally kills me."

Honor just stared at him. "You are absolutely the most insane creature _alive_."

"Maybe." Kydin shrugged, turning back to the ocean. "Maybe I'm just the only creature alive who _isn't_ insane."

"I imagine that's what all the crazy ones tell themselves."

Kydin laughed. "You should calm down." He suggested lazily. "I've grown out of my anger."

"That was quick."

"I'm not the type to hold grudges."

"Apparently." Honor muttered and moved to stare out at the ocean a carefully calculated distance away from Kydin. Just _barely_ out of stabbing range, he figured.

"Don't get comfortable." Kydin suggested. "I could've killed you back where you stood before you'd've had time to react."

"You're not much for polite conversation, are you?"

Kydin snorted and looked at him out of the corners of his eyes. "D'you have any _useful_ talents?"

"Yes. But, undoubtedly, if you had any idea, you'd use me like you use this entire crew. I won't be a minion, Kydin. I'd rather be stabbed than used."

"Ah, mate, everyone's used by someone else."

Honor glared. "We are not." He countered childishly.

"We are." Kydin shrugged. "Take Aderyn. She's stubborn, temperamental, always angry…but I can manipulate her any way I want. If I wanted her to throw herself off this ship and drown herself, I could get her to do it. Or you. Even Vix with all his silent defiance. You're just puppets to me. But, me, see, I'm just a toy for someone else. So we all have our masters, and we all have our playthings. Jus'…some refuse to recognize it, and that makes 'em weak."

"Y'know, I really hope they don't let you tell Zai bedtime stories." Honor replied, staring out at the sea. "I imagine she'll be traumatized enough by growing up watching her caretakers routinely beat each other into unconsciousness."

Kydin shrugged, "I turned out fine."

"By whose standards?" Honor demanded, trying to decide between laughter and rage. "By whose standards could _ever_ be deemed fine?"

Kydin glanced at him. "Well, mate, let's look at it this way, then. You, your family is dead. My father's dead, too. The rest of my extended family doesn't know I exist and would kill me if they did. So we're pretty much equal that way. But, me, I run a ship, and I'm relatively wealthy. You have nothing but what I decide to give you and an astounding amount of personal angst." He shrugged. "I'd say, by comparison, I'm much better off than you are."

"You call _me_ ignorant but you have absolutely _no_ idea that life isn't about what you **_own_**!"

Kydin burst out laughing, but it was a deeply bitter sound. Finally, he stopped, and he was gripping the railing so hard his arms trembled. "No, mate. Life is about how much you can take before you die. It's a test, see, and we all fail in the end."

"_Life_ is not a test. Life is a gift."

"Truly? Is this life of yours something you're _happy_ to have?"

"Not necessarily, no. But it _will_ get better someday. It has to."

Kydin smiled. "It never gets any better. It's just that we grow numb." There was a pause in which Honor stared at him in abject confusion. "You'd better get some sleep, otter. You're coming with us when we land."

"Oh? To do what? Set fire to an orphanage? Sacrifice small cubs in your holy name?"

Kydin tilted his head thoughtfully. "Not quite, no. We're breaking into a prison to rescue a squirrel and the Redwall warrior."

Honor stared. "That sounds…surprisingly noble."

Kydin shrugged. "Ah, well, you haven't heard the details yet, have you?"


	4. Chapter Four

((Well, I've outdone myself this time. How many months has it been since I updated? Never mind. Let's not think about that. Let's just concentrate on how incredibly sorry I am. I have a few excuses, but they don't really matter, do they? Anyway, I updated both Spirit Fading and finally posted the last chapter of Destiny Bearing. Hopefully that will keep you occupied and distract you from my shamefully long absence…of course, my talking about it isn't going to help you forget. I'll shut up now.))

…

Hasia clicked the lock into place and turned to look at Livrec. He yawned, holding his arms up beseechingly. "Pick me up." He ordered tiredly.

Hasia rolled her eyes. "Someday, you'll get too big for this." She informed him as she obediently scooped him up.

"Then I'll carry _you_." He muttered as he nuzzled his face into her neck. "When's daddy comin' back?"

"I don't know." Hasia answered honestly as she made her way towards the back of the small house they lived in. A momentary stab of gratitude towards Vix hit her as she remembered the shack they had lived in before Vix bought them this place. She winced lightly, and tightened her grip on her son. "But I'm sure he'll be back soon."

"You always say that." Livrec complained.

"Of course I do." Hasia agreed as she gently pried her son off her and put him in his bed. "Now go to sleep."

"But I'm not tired!" Livrec objected, rubbing at his eyes and yawning.

"Yes, you are." Hasia argued. "Now, be good and go to sleep."

"Oh, fine." Livrec muttered, tugging at the blankets. "Jus' for you, though."

"Of course." Hasia agreed and turned away. "Sweet dreams." She murmured as she closed the door to her son's room and went to sit in front of the empty fireplace. It wasn't near cold enough yet to light a fire, but she found herself wishing it was. So she could stare into the flames and think. Now she just stared at the ashes from previous fires and tried to gather her thoughts.

Perhaps an hour passed when the first knock came. She straightened, her paws tightening against the wooden armrests. No one knocked. They always tried the doorknob first. This was an island of pirates, after all. Only one creature on the entire island would be polite enough to knock. She reached, trembling, for the knife at her waist.

"Who is it?" She called, knowing very well who it was. Standing quickly, she moved towards her son's room.

"Just me, ma'am." A voice replied respectfully. "Hikin. Oh, and a few of my friends. You don't mind us droppin' in, do you?"

"I-We're busy right now." Hasia informed him, grabbing another knife from the kitchen. "Would you mind coming back later?"

"I'm afraid that would be most inconvenient, ma'am." Hikin replied. "It's rather windy out here. Could you please open the door?"

"Vix wouldn't like it."

"Aw, ma'am, we all know Vix wouldn't care." There was a pause. "We could hang you with your own intestines and Vix wouldn't care." Hikin's beautiful voice was twisted now into a snarl.

"Mother?" Livrec's voice rang out tiredly. "What's going on?"

"Go back to bed, Livrec." Hasia ordered. "We just have some visitors."

"I wanna see." Livrec tried to open his door and Hasia pushed herself back against it, keeping it closed.

"No, Livrec. Just go back to bed."

"But-"

"_Go back to bed_!" Hasia shrieked. Immediately, Livrec stopped trying to open the door and she heard him retreat back to his beds. Distantly, she heard him start to cry. She'd never yelled at him like that before.

"Ma'am, c'mon, it's really windy out here." Hikin's voice was soothing, cajoling. "Why won't you let us in?"

Hasia moved across the living room to stand in front of the door. "I won't let you kill him, Hikin." She told him quietly, afraid her son would overhear. "I don't care how many you have. _I_ _won't let you_."

"Now, ma'am, what makes you think we'd kill him?" Hikin inquired just as softly. "What power does he have over Vix, if he's dead?"

Hasia straightened, realizing finally what they intended to do. They were going to take her son and use him against Vix. They were going to kill her. And, for all her hatred and all her desperation, she would not be able to stop them. Her heart and lungs ached as she tightened her grip on the knives. "You're a monster, Hikin." She whispered. "You're the only real monster I've ever known."

"How can that be true? Hikin inquired as something rattled inside the lock. "You know Kydin."

"He's not a monster. He's a bastard, but he wouldn't do this. He would _never_ do something like this."

"Well, we'll just have to see what we can drive him to, then." The lock _clicked_ and Hasia leapt away from the door as it came open. Hikin stood there, blue eyes earnest and sword drawn. "Hello, ma'am," he greeted.

She threw her first knife and the fox dodged. It lodged deep in the throat of the squirrel behind him. The squirrel clutched at his throat, gurgled, and fell over. The five or so other creatures burst into the room and surrounded Hasia, but Hikin stood exactly where he was. He didn't need to move. He knew as well as she did that he was faster and stronger than she was.

Hasia ignored the underlings, knowing they weren't the ones to watch. Hikin did his own killing. Usually the minions were just there to hold the victim down.

"Oh, will you gentlemen go and fetch the child?" Hikin asked his minions with a smile. "Keep him quiet, but don't kill him."

Hasia threw herself at Hikin before he could finish and tried to stab him straight through his black heart. And she almost managed it. He had underestimated the fury inside her, had expected her usual meek self. But there was no way-_no way_-he was going to take Livrec away from her. Not if she was alive to stop him.

Hikin managed to stop her before she drove the blade in deep enough to cause serious damage. He grabbed her wrist, snapped it effectively, and elbowed her in the nose heard enough to break it. She fell back in pain, momentarily stunned, and didn't recover in time to stop him from grabbing the back of her head with one paw and putting a knife to her throat with the other. Numbly, she noticed that it was her own knife.

He stared at her, his insane blue eyes warm, and his smile polite. "Now, ma'am, lets not make this bloodier than it has to be."

"Don't take him." Hasia ordered, trying to ignore the pleading in her voice. "Please, don't take him."

He looked momentarily pained. "Why does everyone ask me to do things I can't?" He asked her. "Why don't you ask me to do something I _can_?"

"Don't hurt him." She offered. "You don't have to hurt him."

"Yes, I do." He argued. "Vix won't take it seriously unless the child is in pain."

Hasia's lips lifted in a snarl, and she tried to control the rage inside her. With the way Hikin was holding her skull and the blade, any movement would bring about her death.

And, then, the minions brought her son, bawling questions at the top of his lungs, out of his room. Livrec's eyes narrowed in confusion when he saw what was going on and then he burst into tears again. "_Mommy_!" He bellowed. "Mommy, what's going on?"

"Livrec, Livrec don't watch." Hasia ordered, not even able to turn her head to see her son without killing herself. She stared at Hikin, who was watching the situation with intense curiosity. "Livrec, close your eyes."

"But…but _mommy_-"

"Livrec!" Hasia snapped in her harshest tone of voice. "Close your eyes! I love you. Now, _close your eyes_!"

"A'right, mommy…" Livrec sniffled. "But why?"

"Does this make you _happy_, Hikin?" Hasia whispered. "You damn sadist. You sick _bastard_."

"Such language, ma'am," Hikin marveled quietly, "and in front of your child…"

"Only a monster would do this. D'you understand? You're not even a _pirate_. You're just a murderer." Hasia accused.

Hikin smiled and leaned forward to whisper into Hasia's ear. "I'll make sure he screams for you, Hasia. And I'll make damn sure you never answer him."

The fox pulled her forward as he pushed his knife into her neck. When her body hit the ground, her still held her skull in his paws. Disgusted, he dropped it and stepped over the body. Livrec, who had opened his eyes as soon as he heard the _thump_ of a body hitting the ground, screamed and tried to wiggle out of his captor's grip.

Hikin glanced over, saw this, and gestured, shrugging. "Let him say goodbye to his mother." He ordered and Livrec was set free. Screaming and bawling and tripping, the mouse ran over to his mother's corpse and seemed torn between the head and the body, as if unsure which to approach.

Finally he picked his mother's head up and tried to put it back on the body. His crying eyes narrowed with concentration as he attempted to put his mother back together again. But no matter how hard he tried the head just rolled free again and again. Finally he just sat in the pool of his mother's blood and cried, holding his face in bloody paws. All of Hikin's creatures looked away, some ashamed and others disturbed, but Hikin watched with greedy curiosity, soaking in the young one's anguish with a polite smile on his face and a madness in his eyes.

…

Luke couldn't sleep. Wouldn't let himself. He knew that Cyma wasn't going to make it through the night and he wasn't going to let her die alone. Despite her feeble instances that he was only annoying her.

"Really, Luke," her voice was weak, distant, "I've already had one mother. I don't need another."

"I'm not mothering you." Luke replied. "I'm just…here."

"Don't get sentimental." She gave him a look comparable to that of a dead fish. Full of blankness and vague accusation. "Everyone dies. You might as well get some sleep."

Luke shook his head. "No. I won't."

"Even if you…" She took a deep breath, eyes focused on something far away. "Even if you _do_ stay with me…I'll still die."

"But not alone."

"Sometimes…sometimes that's better."

"It isn't." Luke objected. "It never is."

Her eyes narrowed in confusion, and she concentrated on breathing. Finally she lifted her eyes to stare into his. "Who are you?" She asked. "Why are you here?"

He blinked, wondering if she was so far gone she'd lost her mind. "Cyma, it's me. Luke."

She rolled her eyes and slapped him lightly with a great surge of will. "I know that." She informed him. "I'm dying, not stupid."

"Then why-"

"Why didn't you give up your sword, Luke?" She demanded, "Why are you _here_?"

…

Honor stared at the approaching creatures, swallowing heavily. All Kydin had told him, as he abandoned him on the hilltop, was that his only job in this mission was that of bait, and that he had little to no chance of being seriously maimed or killed. Then the captain left to join his crew, wherever they had gone off too. So, here Honor was, staring at the shadowy creatures approaching in the faint light of sundown, hoping he would still contain all major limbs and organs by this time tomorrow.

All he could see of these creatures was their black cloaks and graceful movements. Every now and then metal gleamed in the fading light, but nothing quite discernable. The only thing that kept him from running was Ladin's repeated instances that, if he did, he would die. Not that the squirrel had seemed too incredibly sympathetic as he glared envious at Honor from his cot.

"Good evening," a voice called.

Honor blinked. "Um…good evening." Honor replied.

"Do you come peacefully?" Another voice rang out, though it was impossible to tell from which creature. The hoods of their cloaks obscured their faces.

"Of course." Well that, at least, was the truth. "I'm…I'm actually lost."

"Are you?" One of them asked. They all suddenly broke apart from their cluster and moved to surround Honor.

"_Very_ lost." Honor's eyes flickered around the group.

"Forgive us," one of them stepped forward, "if we do not believe you." A paw reached up, and the creature pulled his hood back. Honor found himself staring into the face of a squirrel only one or two seasons older than himself.

"But I _do_ come peacefully!" Honor objected.

The squirrel stared into his eyes and then, almost resentfully, tilted his chin. "Check him, Nysin."

Another cloaked figure moved forward and, with no apparent thought for Honor's dignity, began searching him. Honor, smart enough to bit back his objections, merely stared in abject shock. Finally the other cloaked figure moved back without a word, disappearing back into the circle that surrounded him.

"Then you come weaponless." The squirrel announced; he smiled. "Please forgive our doubts."

"Um…no, perfectly alright." Honor answered finally. "I completely understand. There are…dangers in armed beasts."

"Indeed." The squirrel nodded. "We abhor weapons of any kind. Only the Wardens are allowed to carry them." He held his arms out and put on display an incredibly beautifully and astoundingly odd pair of blades. He held the grip in his fist and the blade arched out along his forearm, razor sharp and strangely decorated.

"What _are_ those?" Honor demanded, reaching out in wonder.

The squirrel's arms moved fluidly out of Honor's reach. "They are mine." The squirrel answered calmly. "As such, they cannot be touched by any other creature."

Honor nodded slowly. "Who made them?" He asked finally.

"Our craftsmen are ironically talented at creating the weapons we so despise." The squirrel answered. "Traveler, are you hungry?"

"Very much so." Honor answered eagerly. Kydin's crew absolutely refused to allow food to be consumed by anyone for at least a day before any sort of mission. Apparently this was to help them survive surgery, though they had not quite explained how.

"Then come, our cooks with feed you."

The black-cloaked creatures all around threw their hoods back and smiled welcomingly at him.

…

"It was the sword of our hero." Luke explained. "Martin. Don't you know the legend?"

"There are…many legends." Cyma winced. "Not half of them are true."

"_Martin_ is true. His sword is true. I won't allow it to be taken." Luke shook his head, tightening his grip on his sword. "It isn't mine to forsake."

Cyma sighed. "Ironic, isn't it? Us, dyin' here. You're a hero and, me, well…I'm not. But I never did anythin' evil."

"Why didn't you give up _your_ weapon?"

"Oh, they didn't give me the option. We don't really know why they gave it to you."

"Maybe they recognized the sword."

"Maybe…" Cyma shrugged. "Maybe they just recognize their own."

"I'm not like them."

"You're one of those peace-lovin' types, aren't you?"

"They force peace." Luke shrugged. "You can no more force peace than you can convince a rock to fly. Those who try are damned to begin with."

Cyma snorted, "You're an idealist, Luke. Y'know that?"

"How am I an idealist?"

"Peace has to be maintained with violence." She waved a paw tiredly. "'s one o' those…cruel truths o' the world."

…

Honor was sitting in a room full of quiet, cheerful creatures who kept shifting delicious food so that it sat right in front of him. No one was fighting, no one was nursing a grievous wound, and no one was starting a riot because of the lack of liquor. It was altogether the best meal Honor could remember since the day Carden and Zai rescued him. He had pretty much convinced himself that Kydin and the others had just abandoned him here for safekeeping as they slunk off to this prison of their's which had to be several days sail away. There was absolutely no way these incredibly civil creatures would have a place like Kydin had described. They couldn't even stand _weapons_.

In fact, there was a slight segregation among the creatures. Those with weapons, the Wardens, were not exactly _shunned_, but somewhat avoided. At first Honor had suspected the Wardens were the ruling class, but he found quite quickly that the opposite was true. When Honor had first arrived here in this hall of sorts, the Wardens had attempted to leave him with the weaponless creatures calmly chewing their food. But Honor, not easily discarded, had followed them faithfully until, finally, he found himself sitting next to the squirrel he had spoken to before.

It turned out that this creature, barely older than himself, was the Warden's leader. He had been for two seasons and would be for two more. Then he would be past the fighting age and would retire to a peaceful life. All creatures of his society followed this same pattern…trained as cubs to fight, given weapons in their adolescence, and then allowed to give them up in adulthood. It was, Honor thought, a slightly dangerous plan, but it seemed to work brilliantly for the creatures.

"So, Honor, where are you traveling?" The squirrel, Rycis, inquired politely.

"Um…no where particularly…" Honor, who was completely ignorant of his location, shrugged helplessly and decided to lie. "I was originally bound for Redwall, but, like I said, I got lost. I seem to have a skill for that."

Rycis carefully placed his silverware on the table and looked up at Honor inquiringly. Honor noticed uneasily that all the Wardens within hearing range had done exactly the same thing. "Do you come from Redwall?" Rycis asked. "Were you, perhaps, journeying home?"

"Oh, no. My home was destroyed." Honor's eyes fell to his half-finished salad. He swallowed and looked back up again, the words burning like ash in his stomach. "Redwall...it's a refuge for creatures like me, isn't it?"

The Wardens looked up at Rycis and the squirrel calmly returned to eating. After a mouthful of salad and a thoughtful look, Rycis replied. "Yes, it is. At least it has always been in the past. But it would not be safe there, I think, for one such as yourself. They have but one warrior, and he is not a strong as he should be."

Honor frowned. "What d'you mean…one such as myself?"

Rycis smiled. "Would you have me say it then, Honor? I know who you are. Isn't that enough?"

Honor shrugged and looked away. "Is it obvious?"

"To those of us who traveled through your old realm, yes. I imagine those hunting you would be even more inclined to realize who you are. Or, excuse me, _what_ you are."

Honor closed his eyes. "I would be endangering those at Redwall, then…"

Rycis nodded slowly. "If you asked them for sanctuary, they would die to protect you. But…they _would _die. All of them. They are not strong enough now to save even themselves."

"Where should I go?"

Rycis pushed his empty salad plate away and placed his fork back on the table. "I honestly cannot answer that. There are some who _could_ keep you safe, but very few who _would_. Those with the will lack the strength. Those with the strength horde it jealously…I would offer our support, but it is not mine to give. I doubt our voters would approve of the risk involved."

Honor blinked. "'Voters?'"

Rycis nodded. "We are a democratic society here. We vote."

"Who does? You?"

Rycis smiled and one of the Wardens nearby laughed. "No," Rycis answered, "we have thought from the beginning that to give more power than absolutely necessary to the single group in our society that carries weapons would be a dangerous mistake. As Wardens we are not allowed vote nor are we allowed in the Meeting Hall on voting days. As the leader of the Wardens, I am allowed to sit in on council meetings where the elected officials debate, but I am not allowed to speak or show favor to one idea or the other."

"That sounds…complicated…"

"Indeed. But we must protect our rights. There is no creature alive that would not take more than their share if we allowed them."

"Rycis the pessimist. Your attitude never helps anyone, you know that?" A lively squirrel with mocking eyes inquired as she swiped the Warden's salad and fork and began eating.

"Greeting, Ayrin." Rycis muttered, giving the she-squirrel a somewhat exasperated look. "Meet our guest, Honor. Honor, this is my sister."

Honor winced, and then tried unsuccessfully to smile. "Hello."

"Mmelmo mack" She responded, rolled her eyes, chewed, and swallow. "Hello back." She repeated, this time much more clearly. "I was wondering if you wanted to come see our forges."

"What?" Honor asked, glancing between her and Rycis.

Rycis rolled his eyes, sending his sister another frustrated glance. "My sister has a rare talent with metal. Rare enough that she is excused from most of her duties as a Warden."

She nodded. "I made his blades. And…several other of the more interesting weapons."

"Yes. She's rather creative." Rycis admitted as he went about preparing himself another plate of food, still sending irritated looks at his sister.

"Well, come on then." Aryin pulled at Honor's arm. He stared at her, unmoving, confused. "What? You don't want to see our weapons?"

Honor shrugged and stood up, feeling a little lost. "Sure, I do…" He lied.

…

"Cyma…Cyma, you still awake?" Luke watched her carefully for any signs of awareness. For minutes now, she hadn't even seemed to breathe.

"Not for long." She murmured, surprising him. He had thought her dead. "Where the hell is Kydin?"

"I dunno, Cyma. This may come as a shock, but I just don't know if he's the reliable sort. Bein' a pirate and all." Luke pointed out darkly.

"Oy, mate, that's rather harsh. You don't even know me." An otter seemed to materialize out of the shadows, carrying a bloody knife.

"Kydin!" Cyma opened her eyes weakly to look up at him.

"You're an _otter_!" Luke cried, shocked.

Kydin blinked at him. "You always find the smart ones, Cyma. I always forget to give you credit for that, but really, this one here is a regular gem of intellectual radiance."

"He's the Redwall warrior, Kydin" Cyma muttered.

Kydin's eyes narrowed. "Oh, _is_ he? Wonderful, Cyma. I s'ppose you want us to take him outta here as well?"

"Naturally."

"Double the price then."

"No."

"Perhaps you misunderstand your predicament." Kydin crouched beside her, appearing to have all the time in the world as he cleaned his bloody dagger on his crimson shirt. "You, friend Cyma, are in the bottom of a prison that no one has ever, reportedly, managed to escape out of. You are wounded, apparently, to the point of complete incapacitation. And now you are asking me to transport a creature who will undoubtedly disagree with everything I say and feel the overpowering urge to tell me about it." He paused. "The price doubles."

"Then leave me here to die and have Riya make your life unbearable for a few seasons. Death won't be so bad knowing your life will be worse."

Kydin stared at her. "Damn. Who taught you how to bargain?"

"Monks."

"_Damn_." Kydin seemed possessed with rage for a moment and then stood up, offering Luke a paw. "C'mon, then, let's get out of this hell."

…

Honor had fallen in love with a sword. It was, he realized, a rather odd feeling. He finally understood why those idiots named their swords. Because a sword like this wasn't just a piece of metal sharpened to the point that it would slice skin. This was…was…

"My masterpiece." Aryin informed him. "I don't usually make the _usual_ weapons. They bore me, y'know. Swords, daggers, spears, arrows…I mean, what's the point? I tried to spice up the whole bow and arrow combination with a metal bow, but, well, you can imagine how well that went. Anyway, back to the sword…it's the best I've made so far. Best sword this place has ever seen, though the elders don't like to admit it. Think I'll get too arrogant too young."

Honor stared down at the sword, laid out like nothing among the other _unworthy_ blade. "Can I...pick it up?"

"Oh, no. Forbidden for you to touch a weapon while you're here, you understand." She shrugged apologetically as she reached out to pick it up herself. "But, trust me, the balance is perfect. Too light for the typical kind of insane hacking and sawing I've seen you outsiders display, and far too heavy for my brother and his kind of pansy, dance-fighting. It's mostly useless around here, unfortunately. No one knows how to use it."

"I could use it."

"I'd have to chop your paws off if you tried." Aryin pointed out cheerfully. "Outsiders and weapons. Pretty strict law."

"I've never seen a sword like it before…"

"I have." Aryin frowned lightly, as if both awed and annoyed. "Nearly took it off a mouse that came through here. Redwall Warrior, actually. Marvelous blade, though I don't know what kind of metal it was. The hilt could've used a little work. A little shabby if you ask me. But the blade…"

"The Redwall Warrior?"

She glanced at him. "Oh, yes. I wanted that sword so badly I managed to convince the council to offer him freedom for the sword. But, you know, he must've had some blind appreciation for the brilliance of the blade. Wouldn't give it up."

"Too bad. If it's anything like this sword, I would've loved to see it…" Honor was still entranced by the blade as she swung it almost idly.

"Oh, not near as shiny as this one. That one's been used. But it looked…perfect."

"_This_ looks perfect." Honor argued.

She grinned, clearly appreciating the awe. "Thanks. No one here admires my skill. They're all afraid of weaponry. Like it's the _sword_ that does the killing, not the wielder."

Honor nodded slowly, barely paying attention to anything she said. "Right."

She frowned, "Are you even listening?"

He blinked, drawing himself out of his trance, and looked up at her sheepishly. "Oh, sorry. Just tired, is all. It's been a long walk."

She nodded slowly, putting the sword back carelessly among its undeserving comrades. "Right. Well, let me show you to your room, then. D'you prefer a room with a window or without?"

"Um, _with_ please." Honor decided, figuring that if Kydin really intended to come back for him, it would be best to make the escape easy. "I don't sleep well if I can't see the stars."

She nodded and led him cheerfully down the hallways, filling his ears with chatter while his mind still dwelled on the sword.

…

_Distant echoes in his mind. Calling him by an old name he had abandoned, summoning a part of him that no longer existed. And yet…yet he answered. Curiosity, perhaps, or simple habit._

_He answered._

_A suggestion was planted, an idea of an action he would not normally commit. He dimly felt his body moving._

"_I would not usually recommend this course of action. But I have not seen a sword so skillfully made since…since my own, as she said. Mine is superior, but not by an incredible amount. Since mine is already claimed, you should take this one."_

"_But that's stealing."_

"_No. Not when you are taking such a beautiful thing from those so blind they cannot see it. Then it is called 'liberation.' Besides, you are a pirate now, are you not?"_

"_Not a very good one."_

"_Then it is time you become one."_

"_It's not a very moral occupation."_

"_It is time that you learn, Honor, that the world is very much unlike the one you were raised to believe in. Harsher, colder, more alive. It has its faults and its splendor. The fact that you must become a pirate to become a hero is one of the ironies it seems to enjoy."_

"_Hero?"_

"_Don't worry about that now. You'll do that later. For now, steal the sword."_

"_But…is it wrong?"_

"_Would you prefer they use it?"_

"_No."_

"_Then it is a small wrong overshadowed by the greater good it will bring. Now, take it and don't mention that I told you to. Especially to Luke."_

"_Luke?"_

"_He would never understand."_

Honor found himself standing in front of the sword. Since this was not where he had left himself, it was rather a disturbing situation. His mind was still muddled with sleep and, before he could stop himself, his paw reached out and grabbed the sword.

When nothing earth-shattering happened, it occurred to him what a _brilliant_ idea it would be to steal it.

For some reason, it did not occur to him that this was morally wrong. In fact, he seemed to be under the strangest impression that this was the _right_ thing to do.

He barely had time to get back and hide the sword under his pillow before Aryin came bursting in to inform him they'd captured a "hostile."

…

Kydin glared up at the Warden, disgusted by the feeling of blood running down his chin. "Oh, did I hit a nerve?" He mocked, spitting more blood all over the pristine white tiles. He quirked an eyebrow upwards as he sucked on his lip to fill his mouth with blood again. In his current condition, ruining their holding cell was about all could do to defy his captors. But he was doing a damn good job of it.

They'd tied his paws behind his back and a noose around his neck that looped around the rope on his arms. This little ingenuity on their part kept him on his knees with his head tilted uncomfortable far back on his neck and his paws pulled painfully up towards his neck. The fact that they'd tied his legs to the metal hooks on the floor was simply overkill, in his opinion. With him tied up like this and a Warden in the room, there was no way he was going anywhere.

At least, not in one piece.

The Warden, the apparent leader, glared hatefully at him. His free paw trembled on one of the blades he had hooked in special sheathes at his belt. The other one, the one he'd just used to loosen a couple of Kydin's teeth, he held close to his chest. Apparently, he'd hurt himself.

"Mate, don't they teach you how to throw a punch?" Kydin inquired, smirking as best as he could in his position. "I mean, honestly, I know you were _aiming_ for my nose an' all, but they should've taught you that some of the more intelligent of us infidels will've learned how to take a punch. You really should learn how to compensate for my incredible fighting prowess."

"What prowess?" The Warden demanded. "We captured you, did we not?"

"At the price of two dead Wardens." Kydin reminded him. "Not to mention that one lovely squirrel who played such a beautiful hostage. Honestly, without her screamin', my two friends never would've gotten free. Give her my thanks, will you?"

The Warden lashed out with the same fist. Kydin, again, turned his face at the last possible moment, taking on the punch on his chin. More blood welled in his mouth. He spat it at the Warden's face.

"Why d'you keep going for my _face_?" Kydin demanded, his voice somewhat gargled now as the blood began slipping down his throat. He decided then that he absolutely despised this form of captivity. He much preferred chained to a wall, or a simple jail cell. This rope madness was entirely too irritating.

"Because _I_ am not a coward." The Warden snarled.

"Cowardly enough to give in to my idle threats." Kydin gave him a long look. "Did you really think I would carve out that squirrel's eyes?"

"You _did_!"

Kydin stared at him for a moment and then laughed. "Oh, right. I did, didn't I?"

"You _bastard_!" The Warden pulled out his blades, eyes half-wild with hatred.

Kydin sobered up quickly, staring at him with half-mocking, half-solemn eyes. "Careful with that, mate. You remember all that nonsense you were spewing these past couple seasons? You remember how your cult's been telling you all along that you're above the rest of us? You kill me, and you're just like me."

"It would be a _mercy_ to kill you." The Warden hissed. "Do you have any idea what we _do_ to infidels such as yourself?"

"Break my legs and drop me into that prison I just busted out of." Kydin answered simply enough. "Can't say I haven't faced worse, though the idea _is_ decidedly unappealing. Bunch of maddened beasts down there, you know. Lots of my kind've died in your prison."

"Then you should have known better than to trespass on our lands. You should never have tried to free the prisoners!" The Warden paced furiously, his blades still in his paws.

Kydin shook his head, spitting more blood out onto the floor. "How long d'you think your kind can last?" He asked suddenly.

The Warden looked at him, but didn't say something. Kydin smirked at the look in the squirrel's eyes. _So he's not the idiot he tries to play._

"The Nameless One is out to conquer the world. You can't throw all the vermin in the world in your prison. Your way of life is _over_."

The Warden's blades pressed up against his neck, and the squirrel hissed in fury. "Our way of life will outlive us _all_."

Kydin smiled. "Your way of life will end in your lifetime, idiot. And all your weapon-hating tribe? They'll die on the end of a sword."

The Warden stared at him and then, quite suddenly, stood up and stalked away into a corner. He leaned up against the walls, breathing heavily, eyes still locked on the otter. Kydin tilted his head, watching.

"You are a blight upon this land." The Warden accused.

"I am a pirate." Kydin argued. "I go where the money leads me."

"And what about _your_ way of life? What happens when the Nameless One overtakes the seas?"

Kydin scowled at him. "There will be a long and violent battle for the seas, mate. In case it has escaped your notice, there are enough pirates in the world to stand against all the Nameless One's ships. All they need is a leader strong enough to guide them."

The Warden nodded slowly. "And that leader will be you."

Kydin snorted. "No. We have a king."

"Just as we have an Elder Council." The Warden shrugged. "If there is a war, I will lead my tribe. If there is a war, _you_ will lead yours."

"Been getting into the tribal incense a bit much lately?" Kydin demanded. "I am in no position to take the throne."

The Warden stared at him, still shaking his head. "I think I've gone completely mad."

"Frankly, mate, I would have to agree with you."

The Warden walked slowly across the room, blades out. Kydin watched him warily. The blades went up, flashed in the dull light, and, suddenly, he was free. The Warden had cut the ropes.

Kydin leapt to his feet, lunging away from the squirrel who stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief. "What're you playin' at, mate?" Kydin demanded.

"I'm letting you go." The Warden shook his head, laughing softly. "I'm letting you go because this isn't how you're supposed to die."

"You're insane." Kydin accused.

The Warden nodded. "I believe I am."

Kydin rubbed at his numb arms, backing slowly away. "They'll kill you for this, mate."

"No." The Warden stared down at the blades in his hands. "I'll make up an excuse."

"What excuse?" Kydin demanded.

Suddenly the door burst open and Honor came running in, gleaming sword in hand. He looked around frantically, eyes traveling between Kydin and then to the Warden. A look of complete dumbfounded shock came over his face.

"That excuse." The Warden murmured. "Hello, Honor."

"Um…hello, Rycis." Honor replied.

"If you've injured my sister, I'm afraid I will have to kill you."

"Oh, well, um…" Honor moved to half-duck behind Kydin. Kydin shot him a disgusted look and stepped out of the way. "I hit her over the head once or…twice."

"Oh? Did you?" Rycis' blades snapped up into their strange fighting position.

"Kydin? Help?"

"You hit his sister, mate." Kydin sidestepped towards the door. "I'm not gettin' involved in all that mess. But I wish you the best of luck, and thanks for the convenient diversion."

Honor swallowed and stared at Rycis, whose smile was altogether uncomforting. "See if I ever come to your rescue again, Kydin."

"Oh, don't be all _sulky_ about it." Kydin growled, grabbing him by the front of the shirt and pulling him out of the room. "Just _run_!"

…

Honor collapsed on the deck, staring up at the stars and wondering what drunken idiot had taught them to dance like that. His lungs were cursing him in increasingly vicious and creative ways, and he was not at all sure his legs were still attached. He was still holding the beautiful sword in his paws and would not have let go even if someone threatened to chop his entire arm off to get at the blade. He didn't know why he was so attached to a piece of metal, but he was, and there didn't seem to be anything he could do about it.

Except that Aderyn kept trying to get him to let go so she could help him up. It seemed ungracious to stab her, so he simply stared up at her until she gave up on getting him to stand up. Someone carried him, and Honor was willing to bet it wasn't Aderyn. But, then, he really didn't want to turn his head to see who it was, so he just stared at the moon reflected in his sword and smiled like an idiot.

He found himself suddenly lying on a cot and surrounded by Aderyn, a she-otter he didn't know, and a mouse he didn't recognize. They stared at him as if intrigued by his presence, but a bit at a loss as it what to _do_ with him. He decided it would only be polite to tell them he was perfectly fine, just very out of breath.

But Aderyn seemed to have come to this conclusion on her own and was very intent on getting him to stand up again. The mouse frowned and reached for Honor's sword, perhaps to make it easier to for Aderyn.

Honor hissed and tightened his grip on the sword. The mouse tilted his head and withdrew, a curious expression on his face. He said something to the otter, and she just rolled her eyes, muttering something in reply that did not sound at all civil.

Aderyn was still pulling on his arm. Honor, wearily, decided to climb out of the nice cot they'd put him in to show them that, yes, he was, indeed, perfectly fine. _Jump through their hoops and then…sleep._

Slowly, bitterly irritated at even having to _do_ this, Honor forced himself to stand. The otter, sprawled now on one of the other cots, sized him up and seemed unimpressed. She saluted him with what appeared to be a piece of bread, and then passed it to the mouse, who was watching him with far more concern. Aderyn just looked relieved. Kydin, who had appeared magically and was now leaning up against the doorframe, made some sort of derogatory comment. Aderyn snapped back at him and a strange feeling of being _home_ struck Honor in the belly.

He collapsed back into his cot and slept with his sword still held tightly in his paw.

…

Something woke him up. He was beginning to think something always would. Sighing, he forced himself to stand. His muscles screamed in spiteful agony, but he understood now that life was rarely free of pain, and, when it was, it didn't last. He wandered slowly out to the deck, barely aware of what he was searching for. He knew, in the back of his mind, both what he wanted and who would have it, but he didn't have to recognize it yet, so he ignored himself.

He just took one step at a time and marveled at the fact that he could be alive and feel this bad. Of course…he'd felt worse, but pain was always dulled in memories, and he didn't want to remember those times anyway.

Kydin was standing in the faintest light of dawn, leaning against the mast. He held Honor's sword in his paws. "G'morning, mate." He greeted, without ever looking up at him. "Didn't figure you'd be gettin' up today."

"Give it back, Kydin." Honor ordered tiredly. "I wanna go back to sleep."

Kydin glanced up at him. "You want it back?"

"Didn't I just say I did?"

Kydin nodded. "Guess you did…" He looked down at the sword. "So, why is it mate? What is it about _this_ sword that makes you turn thief?"

"It's…beautiful."

"Beautiful? _Beautiful_? It is a sword, mate. Its only purpose is to kill. Aye, it is beautiful, but so is fire, and fire is not half as evil as this is. Don't be tricked by beauty, mate. This thing was made to cut someone's heart out."

Honor shook his head, unable to keep up with Kydin's way of talking this early in the morning. "Look, Kydin, just give it back. I'm too tired for this."

Kydin smirked at the sword and then, leisurely, straightened and turned towards Honor. "You think you deserve it back, mate?"

"I think I'm gonna get it back. Doesn't matter if I deserve it."

Kydin laughed. "Please, mate. You don't just get things because they're there to be taken. You have to earn the right to carry a blade on my ship."

Honor wondered tiredly what _exactly_ Rycis had done to Kydin to make him so damn…so damn _indifferent_. Except, that wasn't the right word. It was like Kydin was just so damn interested in fighting _something_, that it didn't matter who or what. Honor had been afraid of Kydin's rage before, but never of the prince's boredom. And that was almost what it seemed to be. Like Kydin was bored with life and wanted to see some death.

Which made Honor feel very uncomfortable, especially since he fully intended to get his sword back.

"What do you want, Kydin?" He demanded finally.

Kydin's grip on the sword changed. "Do you know how to use a sword, Honor?"

…

Luke was awoken by screams. Not the frantic, vicious screams he'd unwillingly become familiar with, but strained, muted screams. As if someone was trying to choke them down. He was on his feet before his brain was fully awake. He stumbled a bit as his legs attempted to remember their purpose, and then he was off.

He followed the screams until he came upon a most interesting scene. The pirate captain was holding a bloody sword, and the otter he'd thought was going to die last night was pulling himself to his feet. Luke, having been searching for a reason ever since he'd met the otter, drew his sword and tried to carve the otter's heart out.

But the otter was fast, faster than Luke would have ever thought to give him credit for. Not as fast as Luke, but stronger. Strong enough to make Luke play defensively for what felt like an eternity. But the pirate was not nearly as skilled as Luke. He had no talent for the sword, only the same very effective moves over and over with little capability for improvisation.

So Luke used one of the hundreds of tricks he knew and sent Kydin's sword flying. The otter tensed as he felt steel at his throat and then, quite unpredictably, began to laugh.

"Put your blessed blade away, mouse." He suggested. "You don't wanna stain your legendary sword with _my_ blood."

"It's always been used to rid the world of those that don't deserve to live."

"_I_ don't deserve to live?" Kydin demanded, looking more offended than amused now. "I do what I have to, mate. _You_ do what you _think_ is right. And while the whole world is catering to you, the rest of us have to keep it from falling in itself. We can't all run around playing the hero, you idiot. There'd be nothing to save."

"You're insane." Luke informed him. "Maybe the rest of them are afraid to tell you that, but you _are_. You can't justify yourself. You were _slaughtering_ an _unarmed_ opponent."

Kydin snorted. "Oh, please, mate, and what d'you think the Nameless One's minions are gonna do? Hand him a sword and _then_ kill him? I don't know what world you come from, hero, but in this one there are no rules. Why play fair when you can play for keeps?"

"Does everyone really let you get _away_ with this?" Luke demanded. "You spout insanity but you phrase it really well, and everyone just _accepts_ it?"

Kydin shrugged and slapped Luke's sword away, seemingly unaware of the cut he'd just inflicted upon himself. "Look, hero, I let you on my ship because Cyma's paying an obscene amount of money for you."

"No, she isn't. You argued, I remember." Luke shrugged. "And you only get what she was willing to pay in the first place."

Kydin laughed. "I didn't argue because if we'd stayed any longer, we'd all be dead. But I have absolutely no intention of you getting off this ship until I get enough money to make me forget the vast amounts of annoyance I will suffer because of you."

Luke snorted. "You do realize you just stuck me on this ship with you until Cyma pays, don't you? You just made it so that I could be here _forever_."

"Oh, I don't think so, mate." Kydin was suddenly tossing a dagger up and down, catching it by the tip and flicking it upwards. "Forever lasts an awful long time, and my patience doesn't. Stay outta my way."

Luke frowned. "Was that an order?"

"No." Kydin brushed past him, still smirking. "It was a threat."


	5. Chapter Five

((Does anyone else hate final exams? They're pointless, sneaky bastards, incase you were curious of my opinion. If possible, I would order them all assassinated. Unfortunately, there seems to be a lack of assignment assassinators out there. If you know one, tell 'em to email me. And then there was Christmas…not nearly as taxing as exams, but there are those relatives to consider…

So, someone was insinuating I wasn't revealing enough. I'm not sure if they wanted plot or background information. I decided to give both…although, admittedly, not very openly.))

…

Kydin was perched in the crow's nest, staring accusingly at the sunrise. He'd been up here all night, and, from the way he was feeling, knew he should stay up here all day. It wouldn't be safe for him to go down and mingle with the crew and Cyma. It _especially_ wouldn't be safe for him to be anywhere Luke right now. He'd barely suppressed the urge to cut the mouse's throat yesterday morning during their conformation. The mouse was gifted with a sword, it was true, but he was completely oblivious to the fact that Kydin didn't play fair.

It would've been so easy to kill him…

But he knew Cyma would have objected. And Cyma was one of the few beasts he actually liked….which was rather a good thing at the moment, considering she was climbing up to speak with him. He briefly considered yelling at her to go away, but he knew it would only encourage her. So he simply scowled fiercely and made room.

"G'morning, Kydin." Cyma greeted him cheerfully, immune to his facial expressions. "Been sulking all night?"

Kydin glanced at her, eyes narrowing. "What?"

"I heard you an' Luke had a bit of an altercation, and Luke won." She shrugged. "So I figured you'd be sulking _somewhere_. Took me a while to find you." She paused, looking around doubtfully. "I thought you were afraid of heights."

"I was never afraid of them." Kydin retorted tersely.

"Oh, fine, you _hated_ them."

"And even if I was afraid of them," Kydin continued, "why would that stop me from coming up here?"

"Oh, _I _dunno. Most of us just don't enjoy the feeling of rampant nausea. Maybe you're different."

Kydin snorted. "What're you doin' up here, Cyma?"

"I came to order you to apologize to Luke."

Kydin froze momentarily and then, slowly, turned to stare directly at her. "Excuse me?"

"You've got him all worked up about something you've done, and the poor idiot didn't get any sleep last night. He kept bothering _me_ about it, which was even worse. Tell Aderyn I'm never sleeping in her little hospital every again." She sighed in a tortured, long-suffering way. "And now he's attempting to put ideas into that one otter's head."

"Honor?"

"Whatever his name is." She shrugged. "The point is, it's not working. That otter is completely petrified by the idea of doing anything you might not like. What did you _do_ to him?"

"Scarred him for life."

"_Again_?"

"I do it to all of them." Kydin smirked. "Keeps the fools in line."

"And what does it do the smart ones?"

Kydin looked away, sighed. "Why are you here, Cyma? I don't want you to be."

"What put you under the impression that I gave a damn if you wanted me to be here or not?" Cyma retorted. "You've hurt Luke's feelings, and I'm going to annoy you until you fix it."

"He's not a child."

"Not physically. Morally he's very much a child, and so is that otter you've ruined."

"I haven't _ruined_ him!"

"Oh? And what would you call what you've done to him? Just because someone showed you the world's true nature doesn't mean you have to go cavorting around killing everyone else's hopes and dreams. It isn't fair, Kydin, and it isn't smart."

"I'm doing them a _favor_, Cyma-"

"A _favor_? What _favor_? You think it makes them happy to realize there is no true happiness? You think life gets easier if they expect for it to be hard?"

"Yes. It does. It would've been easier for me if…" Kydin trailed off and scowled, looking away with anger glinting in his eyes.

"If what?" Cyma inquired. "If you'd known your father was going to die?"

Kydin hissed and shut his eyes, tilting his head back. Slowly, he let out the breath he'd taken and opened his eyes, his eyes practically scorching hers in their sockets. "Cyma, you are very lucky that I find you amusing."

Cyma shrugged. "And very lucky you know Riya would scalp you for killing me."

"Riya would try." Kydin frowned. "She would fail."

"Last I checked, you two were evenly matched."

"Our _speed_ is the same. So is our skill. But Riya's downfall has always been that she was born female." He shrugged. "I am naturally stronger than she could ever be."

"Ouch." Cyma shook her head, laughing at his sexism. "I'll tell Riya you said that."

"She knows it's true. You cannot fight your nature, Cyma. Males are stronger. It's just the way it is." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Alternatively, I'd pay a great deal of money to see a male attempt to give birth."

Cyma burst into laughter. "As would we all." She agreed through fits of hysterical laughter.

Kydin shrugged, uncomfortable with her laughter, and looked around apathetically for something worth the looking. He found nothing, but, then, the sea wasn't near as scenic as it had once been.

"So, you're still sensitive about your father, then?"

"Isn't everyone?" Kydin retorted. "Would you like to talk about _yours_?"

Cyma tensed, and the dark, rippling anger that came upon her so quickly and could disappear just as swiftly, sparked in her eyes. She scowled at him. "That's not fair, Kydin."

"Not fair how?" Kydin demanded.

"That you're…you're…"

"Ripping open old wounds? Please, Cyma. What do you think you just did to _me_?"

"There's a difference." Cyma argued. "There's a _huge_ difference."

"How? I watched my father die. You made your father die. Either way, it's still enough of a tragedy to warrant emotional scarring."

"Your father never did anything to you."

"He died, didn't he?"

"Not on _purpose_."

"Hmm…how I wish you could've explained that to me when I was a cub. It would've made me feel all better if I knew that yes, my father was abandoning me, was leaving me all alone, but, oh, he didn't _mean_ to."

"That's not what I meant."

"Then you shouldn't have brought it up." Kydin snapped. "I'm not like the others, Cyma. I don't want to have an emotional breakthrough."

"No. You just want to sit up here and let it fester."

"It's worked so far."

"Damn it, Kydin, what's _wrong_ with you?" Cyma looked genuinely concerned, and that only served to annoy Kydin more. "Is it that Luke beat you? Is that _it_?"

"No, Cyma. It's not."

"Then what _is_ it?"

Kydin looked incredulously at you. "What? You expect me to just _tell_ you?"

"Yes. Because I actually care and because I'll actually listen. You know damn well no one else would do that for you. Except Vix or Aderyn or _everyone_! But you're too stubborn to be flawed for them. I have no idea why you ever even let _me_ see you weren't perfect."

"I think it involved a great deal of rum."

"It would have to. To pry _your_ jaws open. Honestly, Kydin, it's like we're asking you to regurgitate your _soul_. I remember when Riya nearly lost an eye just to figure out your favorite color."

"I don't have a favorite color."

"Which was all you had to tell her! But instead you sent her on some suicidal quest to steal an albatross' egg and-"

"I remember what happened." Kydin cut her off short. "Is there a point you were trying to make or were you just babbling?"

"I want to know what's wrong with you."

"Nothing's wrong with _me_." Kydin gestured disgustedly at the sea. "There's something wrong with the _world_."

"And what's that?"

Kydin gave her a long, mistrusting look. "Will you truly go away and leave me alone?"

"I might have to hug you first."

"I might have to stab you if you try."

"Oh, fine then." Cyma smirked. "So, tell me already. Why do you hate the world?"

"Because the world keeps trying to make me something I don't want to be." Kydin glanced down towards the ship. "It wants to make me another suicidal, self-righteous puppet. It wants me to be like that idiot _Luke_, and I _won't_. I'm not going to play the fool for the sake of the world, Cyma. This world isn't worth the cost of one good life. It's not worth Luke's, and it would _never_ be worth mine."

…

Riya stared silently at the sea as Syvinli shifted uneasily beside her. _Bad news_, she noticed idly, _always comes at sunrise_.

"You said they cut her head completely off?"

"Yes." Syvinli's uncertain voice could barely be heard over the soft hissing of the sea. She was afraid, and Riya knew why.

"And you couldn't find Livrec? He wasn't holed up in any of those hiding spots I told you about?"

"No. Wherever he is, he isn't where you, Vix, or Kydin told him to go."

"Then they took him." Riya sighed. "They took Livrec."

"Yes."

"And Hikin's ship set sail late last night?

"Yes."

"You know what that means."

"They will use him against Kydin."

"Oh, no. They know that would be pointless. Kydin owes no allegiance to the cub. He'd let a thousand newborns bleed to death before he let anyone hurt him or his crew." Riya smiled grimly, shaking her head at the simple brilliance of the plot. "They're going to use the cub against Vix."

"But Vix isn't captain." Syvinli pointed out. "What's the point behind all this?"

"Kydin is going to be crowned king. Sooner or later, my father will die and Kydin will become our new king. We all know it. The only one who could possibly be crowned besides Kydin is Hikin. The fox is a very close second. If Kydin wasn't around, he'd be the best of us. But he's not, and he knows it. So, for him to be crowned, Kydin has to die."

"What does Vix have to do with this?"

"Vix and Kydin…they're brothers. If Kydin trusts _anyone_ completely, it's Vix. He sees through everyone else and knows we all have weaknesses. He knows Aderyn would betray him if her freedom was in jeopardy. The twins would betray him for each other. They all have their own weaknesses, their own downfalls. And Kydin _knows_ that. There's only one he'd trust at his back and that's Vix. Because Vix doesn't have the capability to betray him."

"Then there's no point to this. If Vix won't betray Kydin, then why take his son?"

"Well, there it is, really. Vix is a very loyal mouse. He doesn't have it in him to betray the few he actually loves. Unfortunately, he loves his son."

"But…more than Kydin?"

"I wouldn't say that he loves him less. I'd say the love is _different_. If you were a mother, you'd understand. Not to mention that Vix's own parents abandoned him so there's no way he's going to do it to Livrec…" Riya shook her head. "Aw, damn, this is gonna kill 'em both."

"But…isn't Kydin _stronger_ than Vix?"

"Stronger, faster, smarter…but it doesn't really matter. Vix is an assassin. That's how Kydin's father trained him. But even if Kydin manages to avoid being killed by Vix, he'll have no choice but to kill him."

"But…if Vix betrays him, shouldn't Kydin kill him?"

"Yes. He should. But if he has to kill Vix, he'll never be the same. The difference between Kydin and Hikin is that Kydin does evil things because he has to. Hikin does them because he enjoys them. If you take everything Kydin believes…that the world is out to get him, that he can't trust anyone, that everyone dies alone in the end…if you take all that and _confirm_ it to him...well, there'd be no need for morality anymore. He wouldn't even _enjoy _the terrible things he'd do. But he would think the world deserved them." Riya sighed. "Believe me, Syvinli, Hikin would still get what he wanted. Kydin would refuse the crown, or accept it and send us all against the world. He might even ally us with the Nameless One, just to watch the world burn."

"Kydin wouldn't."

"No." Riya laughed, shaking her head. "His _father_ wouldn't. But Kydin's downfall has always been that he isn't his father." She shook her head sadly. "And he's always known it."

"Riya, do you really think Hikin's going to succeed?"

Riya didn't answer her first mate's question. Instead, she simply turned away from the sea. "Gather the crew. We're leaving in two hours."

…

Kydin caught the mouse around the neck, looping his arm around Luke's neck and tightening until he heard the mouse choke. "Hello, Hero." He greeted.

The mouse gagged quite articulately and slammed his head back against Kydin's forehead hard enough to make the pirate stagger. There was a moment of violent scrambling, but in the end the only thing that changed was Kydin's grip. He was now choking the mouse so thoroughly that Luke couldn't even twitch. Darkness crowded around the outskirts of his vision, someone punched a hole through his stomach, and something was very wrong with his ears, when, suddenly, Kydin released him and shoved him away.

Luke collided with one of the cots, tripped, and landed face-down on the ground. He twisted until he was lying flat on his back, but couldn't sit up due to the unfortunate fact that Kydin's dagger was digging a small hole into his neck.

"What do you want, pirate?" Luke demanded harshly, eyes narrowed.

"You're a strange specimen." Kydin informed him, looking at him as if he wasn't really alive. Analyzing everything about the mouse, including the lack of sweat and the thinly controlled rage in his eyes. "Tell me, what was it that happened that made you decide to be all brave and noble?"

"I've been wondering what happened to _you_ to make you so morally malformed." Luke retorted.

"Ah. Well, that's not much of a mystery, mate. Ask any o' my crew, and they'll be happy to gossip away my entire life story. They've been right chatty lately." He narrowed his eyes, and the dagger sliced a millimeter into the mouse's flesh. A single drop of blood welled up. "But you…what _happened_ to you?"

"Maybe some of us are just born with a conscience."

"Aye, an' some are born mad, but that's not what happened. You're not insane like all the rest I've met. I can understand insanity. You're just…you _chose_ this. An' no one chooses a life like that without a good reason. You're all tryin' t'make up for something." Kydin smiled viciously. "Got somethin' you're tryin' to atone for, mate?"

Luke punched him in the face.

Kydin, caught unsuspecting with a punch that would've sent him reeling even if he'd had some sort of _warning_, somehow found himself staring up at the ceiling and wondering who the hell taught a _mouse_ to punch like _that_.

"Damn you." Luke was glaring at him. "Your face hurt my paw."

"Damn right it did." Kydin wondered how he could speak if his jaw was no longer attached. "And I'd do it again."

Luke shook his head, sitting up slowly as he rubbed resentfully at his throat with his left paw. "Fair warning, pirate: ask me anythin' like that ever again and I'll kill you."

"You will not." Kydin argued. "And if you did I'd take comfort in the fact that you'd spend the rest of your life brooding over it. That's the problem with you idiots. You take life too seriously. No. That's not it." He laughed, shaking his head. "You take _pain_ too seriously."

"There you go again with your insanity." Luke muttered darkly. "Can you not go five minutes without being absolutely _insane_?"

"Yesterday, when you stopped me from slicing Honor to bits, why'd you do it?"

"Because he was in pain." Luke replied automatically.

Kydin smirked. "You see?"

"No. I don't. I don't see how anyone but a sadist could ever say what I did was wrong."

"It's not wrong anymore than a mother bird keeping her hatchling in the nest forever is wrong. She's afraid the hatchling will fall instead of flying, so she never gives him the chance."

"So you think Honor's just gonna fly away if I let you kill him? Well, I suppose _metaphorically_ speaking-"

"No. I'm saying that if you coddle him now, in a season or two he'll be dead. He's gotta get used to pain-"

"Why? Because _you_ did?" Luke retorted, standing up. "No, don't say anything else psychotic. I'm not at all inclined to agree with anything you have to say. Let's just both pretend that the other doesn't exist until I get off this damn ship."

Kydin stared at him, blue eyes guarded. "I don't know if you're aware, Hero, but this is a pirate ship. Cyma won't be leaving us until we go back to Shray, which, as you're probably unaware, is an island completely populated by pirates. Since I have some enemies there, I won't be returning for a while. Possibly a full season. Now, I'm not at all worried about Cyma. She's a pirate as well…or, at least, was. But _you_, mate, you an' Honor have me worried. Because there's no tellin' what you two will get up to if we ever have a…problem."

"Look, Kydin, I have no intention of interfering with your business. I'm only interested, at this point in time, in getting back to Redwall."

"Had enough of adventuring, mate?" Kydin mocked.

"Quite enough." Luke agreed. "But I can endure until this one's over, I suppose."

"Oh, I hope so, Hero. Because I don't want Zai cryin' over your disgusting corpse."

"I have a name." Luke pointed out unhappily. "And who's Zai?"

Kydin blinked. "You haven't met the little one yet, mate?"

Luke stared at him. "The…little one?"

"Oh, yes, she's about…this high." Kydin held his paw about even with his hip. "Squeals a lot?"

Luke was silent for several seconds. "For your sake, pirate, I'm going to assume you're talking about an overly excitable midget and not a small child. Because if you have a small child on this ship, I may have to punch you again."

…

"Well, look at that." Ladin smirked, watching Aderyn, Cyma, Zai, and Carden go cavorting past. "Isn't that cute?"

Nidal looked up from his breakfast and made a face. "Oh, inescapably."

"I'm tellin' you, mate, this ship is goin' t'hell." Ladin shook his head, still smiling, and stole the remnants of his brother's biscuit.

"Rather the opposite, I think." Nidal murmured.

"Oh, and _you're_ no help, either." Ladin snapped. "Don't think I haven't noticed that pansy look in your eye."

Nidal tilted his head. "Pansy look in my eye?"

"You an' Aderyn-"

"Oh, mates, it's a wonderful day." Kydin wandered in, looking distinctly nauseated. "Cyma and Aderyn frolicking across the deck with Zai, singing wondrously feminine songs. Carden close behind, crowned with what appears to be a daisy chain. And Hero is giving Honor another overly-sentimental weaponry lesson." Kydin shook his head, blue eyes glinting. "If only another pirate ship were to come sailing along right now. I wouldn't have to worry about being crowned king." He looked momentarily thoughtful, "Though I would rise considerably in the nominations for queen."

"Oh, and a right pretty queen you'd make too, captain." Ladin agreed, barely containing laughter.

"You think?" Kydin inquired, simpering in an over-exaggerated impression of a female. "Oh, how wondrous! I'll be the prettiest one at the ball!" He twirled in a circle.

"Of course ya would, Kydin." Cyma appeared out of nowhere, reaching out to catch Kydin's arm. "You have such delicate bone structure."

"And such extravagant curves." Someone added heartily as the rest of the crew entered. Ladin didn't catch who said it, but he suspected Aderyn.

"Oh, you think so?" Kydin inquired cheerfully, fluttering his eyelashes at Cyma.

"What's _wrong_ with him?" Honor whispered as he and Luke stared in abject shock.

"Our beloved Prince," Cyma hopped up on the table, bringing Kydin with her, "is very, very drunk."

"Ine-Inebria-Inebriate…" Kydin frowned. "_Drunk_!" He twirled in another circle and very nearly fell off the table.

"How 'bout you just sit yourself down before one of us ends up dead?" Cyma suggested.

"Or pregnant." That comment was most likely from Carden, Ladin decided, although the Redwall Warrior was looking suspiciously guilty as well.

Kydin looked down at his belly curiously and laughed. "Can you imagine?" He inquired, still laughing. "Can you imagine if I went back to Shray pregnant?"

"Oh, it would definitely catch the attention of the general populace." Cyma agreed, snickering.

"Right, well, that's our official goal now." Kydin decided abruptly.

"Getting you pregnant?" Cyma asked doubtfully.

"Well, it wouldn't be funny if it happened to _you_." Kydin was suddenly defensive. "Then it'd just be…disgustin'. You'd be all fat and big an'…urgh. Disgustin'."

"Aw, you're so _sweet_." Cyma cooed as she tightened her grip on Kydin's arm and swung him in a fast circle. Kydin turned an interesting shade of green, but he didn't stop laughing.

"Right, mates, stop just _lookin_' at me." Kydin gestured to his crew as soon as he came to a stop. "Vix, be a good lad, and get everyone good an' drunk, aye? Oh, and stop by and murder me in the mornin'. Cuz damn if I won't be regrettin' _this_."

Vix sighed, shaking his head in dismay. "Kydin, I don't think it's a good idea to get _everyone_ drunk. Remember last time when-"

"Oh, please, it worked out fine for everyone in the end." Kydin stopped for a moment, winced, and then shrugged. "'cept for that poor seagull. Poor unfortunate bastard. Ah, but we gave him a decent funeral in the end, aye?"

"We pulled out all his feathers and _roasted_ him." Vix argued. "And then we all got too sick to _eat_ any of it. And _you_ **_insisted_** that we all give it a burial at sea. But since the bird didn't have in feathers and was, in essence, naked, _you_ decided that _we_ should all get-"

"Drunk!" Kydin broke through Vix's objections. "Eat, drink, and be married!"

"Uh, Captain?" Carden looked a bit confused. "Isn't it 'be merry?'"

Kydin looked shocked and appalled. Cyma spoke up for him. "Carden! I won't have you insinuating such horribly immoral things in front of your queen! He's quite young and emotionally fragile, you know."

Vix simply sighed and shook his head, disappearing momentarily. Carden and Ladin followed eagerly after the first mate. Luke was eyeing the entire room with unease, wondering exactly how drunk Kydin had to be to act like this.

"'ow much have you had to drink?" Nidal inquired suddenly, as if reading Luke's thoughts.

"Haven't even hit stage two yet. Though, I must admit, how could I tell the difference? I already _am_ the most attractive thing in this room." Kydin's eyes suddenly narrowed. "Except for that cabinet. That's a very attractive cabinet."

"Stages?" Honor asked. "What stages?"

"The stages o' bein' drunk, mate." Cyma informed him cheerfully. "Clever, attractive, rich, invincible, and invisible." She winked. "Personally, invisible's my favorite. Cuz you can walk around bellowin' nursery rhymes three hours before sunup and no one can see or hear you. Great fun."

"Please don't." Kydin winced at some memory. "I remember that."

Suddenly Vix walked in, flanked by Carden and Ladin, all three of them holding astonishing amounts of alcohol.

"Oh, lovely. They've arrived." Kydin saluted Vix thankfully. "Now then, Vix, you have my permission to stay sober as long as everyone else on this boat does not. Excluding Zai. She's a violent drunk." He shook his head disapprovingly at Zai's broad grin. "And we won't be havin' anymore o' your temper, youngling. You get right vicious."

"He's not serious, is he?" Luke was asking Aderyn. "He didn't actually let the little one drink, did he?"

"We all did." Aderyn replied uneasily. "We'd run outta food and water and decided t'have a party 'till we died. Didn't wanna leave Zai out."

"You're all insane." Luke informed her. "You are all completely mad."  
"Drink up, mate." Ladin handed Honor something. Honor took it on reflex, and then, realizing what it was, tried to hand it back. "No, no, mate, drink it." Ladin insisted.

"No." Honor argued.

"Yes." Vix appeared suddenly, looking decidedly unfriendly.

"No." Honor repeated and attempted to hand the cup to Vix.

Vix grabbed the base of the mug and the back of Honor's head, pulling Honor's head back and shoving the cup to his mouth. Honor, deciding that drowning in alcohol was a very unfitting way to die, drank and choked and nearly died anyway. Luke shoved Vix away and glared at the smaller mouse, but Honor, still sputtering and choking, had come to a very startling realization.

"That tastes _disgusting_!" Honor bellowed.

"Have another go." Ladin held out another mug.

Honor stared at the cup in shock. Then, with a quick glance at Vix who seemed prepared to attempt murder yet again, sighed and took the offered mug. "_Fine_." He hissed. "But I won't like it."

"Give it a couple minutes." Ladin suggested with a wink. "It works out fine in the end."

When Ladin made his way over to Luke, who was still shooting hideous glares at Vix, the mouse took the drink without comment and drained it in one go. Ladin, Aderyn, Vix, and Honor stared in surprise.

"What?" Cyma called out from where she and Kydin were in the midst of an arm wrestling tournament. She was winning, but only because Kydin had yet to notice that she was using both arms. "You think the Redwall Warrior isn't a secret alcoholic? Please. They _all_ were."

"Martin was not." Luke objected tiredly as he drained half of his second mug in one swallow. Ladin, whose previous attitude towards Luke had been friendly disrespect, was now looking reverently awed.

"Oh, he was the worst!" Cyma argued as she elbowed Kydin in the neck and, using his gagging as a distraction, won the match. "Any mouse that gets it in his head to go up against a wildcat is either a lunatic or very, _very_ drunk."

…

Honor was sitting on the floor, marveling at the creatures around him. Ladin and Nidal, who were difficult to tell apart at the best of times, had now somehow become completely identical. It was very hard to tell who was who, as they seemed to have forgotten themselves and were currently arguing at the top of their lungs over the fact that they were both, apparently, Nidal. Carden was asleep, though he had lead a rousing rendition of a song that even Luke had blushed at a few mere moments ago, and the mouse snoring uproariously despite the noise Nidal and Ladin were causing. Aderyn was sitting at the table, holding her head in her paws and staring at Kydin and Luke with wide, bloodshot eyes. Cyma sat next to Honor, eyes half-closed as she, too, watched the mouse and the otter.

Kydin sat on top of the table, directly across form where Luke sat. The two of them were sharing stories from their pasts, pausing every now and then to toast something completely irrelevant. They had, in the past four hours, become incredibly close. In fact, they had refused any and all other company. Even Cyma, for three or so hours Kydin's closest confidant, was now forsaken.

"Isn't it wonderful, mate?" Cyma inquired.

Honor turned to look at her, and he could swear his brain swished around in his head. "What?"

"How tomorrow mornin' those two will be at each other's throats." She paused, laughed, and winced. "That is, if they can summon the will to _stand_."

"Wha' d'you mean?" Honor was appalled at his speech but couldn't quite convince himself to fix it.

"Aw, you'll see in the mornin'." Cyma promised. "'ey, Vix! _Vix_!"

The mouse rose out of the shadows he sat in and approached cautiously. "What?"

"I'm goin' to bed now."

Vix stared for a moment. "Congratulations." He answered finally.

Cyma snorted. "I need help standin', mate." She informed him and held up a paw.

Vix rolled his eyes and pulled her to her feet. He tightened his grip as she swayed violently. "I think I'd best walk you there." Vix muttered. "Otherwise you'll fall overboard and die."

"Ah, well, we've all gotta go sometime." Cyma shrugged. "Long as it doesn't happen sober, I don't really care."

"Yet another sentiment you share with Kydin." Vix observed as he steadied the still-swaying Cyma. "Honor, it's your bedtime as well."

"Nah, Vix, leave him." Kydin's voice rang out suddenly. "Leave him, but get all the rest outta here."

Vix shot Kydin a decidedly unpleasant look. "And how, exactly, do you propose I do that?"

"In shifts." Luke suggested, and he and Kydin went about toasting this most excellent notion. Vix scowled and turned to face the squirrel twins who were, coincidently, now both convinced of being Ladin. _This'll take awhile._

"_Oy_!" Cyma bellowed so loud Carden woke up. "All o' you, get outta here."

"What for?" Aderyn demanded.

"For life?" Cyma suggested merrily, brandishing a butcher knife Vix promptly relieved her of. The threat, however, had served its purpose and everyone but Honor, Kydin, and Luke started stumbling, staggering, and crawling their ways to their bunks.

Cyma followed after the rest, leaning cheerfully on Vix and uselessly attempting to steal her stolen knife back.

…

"Oy, mate, you know who that is?" Kydin inquired, gesturing at Honor. Luke obediently turned to look at Honor.

"Honor?" Luke guessed recklessly.

"Aye, well, that's who he _says_ he is." Kydin agreed, lounging on the table and staring at the drunken young otter across the room. "'ey, who're you, _really_?"

Honor stared at him, eyes narrowing suspiciously. He had the look of someone trying to remember something drastically important. "Not s'pposed t'tell." He answered finally.

"Uh-huh." Kydin looked over at Luke, smirking. "You see now?"

"No." Luke admittedly.

"'e's hidin' somethin'." Kydin revealed. "You don't know what it is?"

"No."

Kydin laughed and took another drink. His eyes closed for a moment and when they opened they were burning holes into Honor's wide, frightened gaze. "'ello, Laflen."

Honor looked absolutely petrified now. "I'm-I'm not…that's not fair." He whined.

"Not fair?" Kydin mocked. "What's not fair?"

"You did this on purpose." Honor accused weakly and knocked over his half-filled mug in a brief spasm of spite.

"Laflen?" Luke seemed puzzled. "Why does that name sound-"

"Familiar?" Kydin inquired. "Because it is, mate."

"Stop it." Honor objected faintly.

"You know, Laflen, you really shouldn't be so worried. I'm not going to tell anyone what you did."

Honor's eyes closed against him. "_Stop_." His tone was lost, petulant.

"I would just like to know what happened. What went _wrong _with you?"

Honor turned his face away and got a decidedly unhappy look on his face. He looked distressed and overwhelmed and, above all, confused. He was the perfect depiction of tormented helplessness.

"What's it like to be a disgrace to your family, Laflen?"

"You would know better than he would." Vix appeared out of the darkness, eyes narrowed and teeth half-bared.

Kydin glared. "Vix-"

"What?" Vix snarled. "What _now_, Kydin? Have I ruined your game? Did I ruin your perfect little torture? Forgive me my _conscience_."

"No, I will not. Never." Kydin sat up. "I need to know-"

"Then you can do what you always do and beat it out of him. I don't care for your political competitions, Kydin, but I know you have to play them. So you get your information and ruin whatever lives you can with it, but you _won't_ get it this way from another _child_." Vix pulled Honor to his feet, glancing briefly into the young otter's bewildered stare. "Not like this, Kydin. Never again."

"Why are you so intent on protecting him, Vix?" Kydin inquired.

"Why are you so intent on destroying him, Kydin?"

Kydin sneered. "Does he remind you of little Livrec?"

"Does he remind _you_ of little Kydin?" Vix retorted and tightened his grip on Honor's arm. "C'mon, Honor. You need to sleep."

Kydin watched them begin to leave the room and then, inexplicably, sighed. "He'll have nightmares." He called out, his tone softer, almost concerned.

"I know." Vix snapped over his shoulder. "I hope you got what you needed, Kydin."

"Don't I always?"

"Have you ever?"

…

The morning dawned unnoticed by the crew. The only creature aboard the ship awake to see it was Luke, who had not slept the night before. Oh, he had gone stumbling to his cot and pretended to pass out immediately upon lying down…but it had all been fake. A play put on for Kydin's benefit. Luke had not had more than a few mouthfuls of alcohol all night. Certainly, the few mouthfuls he'd been forced to drink had been astoundingly potent, but not near enough to send him reeling. Redwall was not full of drunks, but, then, Luke was not originally from Redwall.

Luke had long ago learned how to pretend to drink massive amounts without even drinking at all. He had also learned to tell when someone else was doing the same. And Kydin hadn't been half as drunk as the otter pretended.

It was all so bitterly confusing, especially those last few minutes before Kydin declared it time to go to bed. When Kydin kept calling Honor "Laflen," and Vix arrived to snarl menacingly at his captain. Then name 'Laflen' rang dim warning bells in Luke's mind. Some harsh and apprehensive thoughts were connected with the name, though Luke had no idea why. He had a feeling it came from a long time ago, though, from back before his days at Redwall.

He sighed and leaned against the railing, closing his eyes against the dawning sun. _Martin, why am I here?_

No answer. Of course, no answer. He hadn't heard from Martin since Luke took up the role as Redwall Warrior. Luke had gone into the world seeking adventures in the vain hope that nearly dying multiple times would draw Martin out of his silence. Apparently, that had not been enough.

Maybe Luke would have to die completely before gaining any advice on how to live his life.

"What are you doing?"

Luke glanced over his shoulder to see the mouse, Vix, staring at him. "Pondering the meaning of life."

Vix blinked at him. "You weren't drinking."

Luke shrugged. "I wasn't drinking."

Vix approached quietly, staring at the sunrise. "You hid it well."

"Hid what well?" Luke inquired. While he carried no particular grudge against the other mouse, Luke wasn't fond of the way he had handled Honor's refusal to drink. Nearly drowning the poor young idiot didn't strike Luke as a way to solve problems.

"The fact that you weren't drinking." Vix didn't even look at him. "I was fooled for awhile. So was Kydin, though he figured it out faster than I did."

"How do you know he knew?"

Vix snorted. "Never try and fool Kydin. He knows when you're lying, and he can sense a trick. He knew exactly what you were doing, and he didn't care."

"Why did he order everyone drunk?"

"Because he wanted Honor drunk."

"Then why didn't he just make Honor drink?"

"Because Aderyn and Cyma would've scalped him. Ladin wouldn't've been amused, either. And then there's you to consider."

"But you already said Kydin knew I was only pretending to drink."

Vix finally turned to look at him, and it wasn't a pleasant look. "Yes, well, by pretending to be drunk you kept yourself safe. Kydin played along with you, which meant you had to play along with him." The mouse snorted, obviously unimpressed with the Redwall Warrior, and turned back towards the sunrise. "I wonder, Hero, how far you would've let Kydin go before you would've stopped playing along."

Luke frowned. "Kydin is the only one that calls me 'Hero.' I don't like it when he does it, either."

Vix turned his back on Luke and the sunrise, starting to walk away. "Well, that's logical. It's not meant kindly by either of us."

…

"Why do you think he does it?"

Cyma rubbed at bloodshot eyes. "Who's doin' what, again?" She inquired.

Vix snorted, shaking his head. "Kydin's ruling the universe."

"Oh, that." She shrugged. "Probably because he's still reelin' from his father's death."

"That was seasons ago. Hell, Cyma, that was back when we were _cubs_."

"You still hate your father, don't you?"

"That's different."

"To who? Who's keepin' score, Vix?" Cyma shook her head. "Look, Vix, you don't live life without facin' tragedy. But Kydin, he's not the type given to loving others. He hates the world. Stands to reason he'd hate all the occupants, aye? But he doesn't. He's flawed like the rest of us. He loved his father. It's hard, as a cub, to go through what he did."

Vix frowned. "No one told him to _follow_ the bastards."

"What would you've done? If you had been onboard when they came and killed Vynci and Kalci and took the king, would you've just sat around waiting for the rest of us to return?"

"That is-"

"Unfair? Of course it is. But you know as well as I do what you would've done. You would've followed them right back to their homes, just like Kydin did. I would've done the same thing." Cyma shrugged. "You know the only difference between me an' you and Kydin?"

"What?"

"You an' I, the first time those bastards started cuttin' the king open…you an' I would've gone runnin' in to try and stop it. We would've died with him. Kydin…Kydin's always known better. He knows when to draw the line. The king taught him that. But he also taught Kydin never t'leave a crewmate behind. So while me an' you would've died or run away, Kydin just sat in the bushes and listened to his father die." Cyma gulped down her drink. "_That_ is the difference between us, Vix. _That_ is why he tries to run the world. That's why he'll abandon us all when we need him to take the crown."

"For his vengeance?"

"No. For his punishment."

…

A day passed in relative silence. Then another passed, and another, and the ship returned eventually to normal except for the fact that Kydin now seemed disinclined to leave his quarters. It was only on the forth day that everyone discovered Honor's curious absence. Vix and Luke of course, had noticed everyday but had naturally assumed the otter was holed up somewhere and would come out when he was numb enough or brave enough to face the world again.

Aderyn was not as patient. Neither, as it turned out, was Cyma.

Aderyn rallied, or bullied, Ladin, Nidal, Carden, and Zai into searching for the missing otter. Luke and Vix helped halfheartedly, not incredibly interested in finding someone who so obviously didn't want to be found.

It was Cyma who went straight to Kydin, and, having finally figured out through Vix exactly what happened, she wasn't at all happy. "You," she informed Kydin as she stalked into the captain's quarters, "are a bastard."

"Well, obviously." Kydin, nestled peacefully in his hammock, didn't even open his eyes.

"I'm serious this time, Kydin."

"You always are." Kydin tugged at his light blanket and shifted a bit, obviously attempting to go back to sleep.

Cyma stalked across his room and grabbed onto his hammock. It swung dangerously. "_Kydin_!"

"Stop it, Cyma. 'm tryin' to sleep."  
She flipped his hammock.

He hit the ground violently and groaned. Several long seconds passed before he summoned the will to roll over onto his back and give Cyma an incredulous look. "What're you _doin_'?"

"What're _you_ doin'?" Cyma snapped back. "Honor's been missing for four days!"

"Well, he can't've gone far." Kydin pointed out. "We're a wee bit surrounded by the _ocean_, if you haven't noticed."

Cyma looked about ready to kick him when she finally noticed that the room smelled very strongly of alcohol. "_That's_ what you've been doing this whole time? _Drinking_?"

"Gotta keep myself entertained somehow." Kydin pointed out and stood up slowly. "Hold the hammock still, will you?"

"No. You can sleep on the _floor_ for all I care." Cyma snarled. "You've been _hiding_!"

"I've been _thinking_." Kydin argued.

"Right. Whatever you wanna call it, Kydin."

"You know, Cyma, you used to be a lot more fun." Kydin sighed and shook his head mournfully. "Guess I used to be a lot more fun too, aye?"

"You used to be a lot less homicidal, if that's what you mean."

"Who changed, d'you think? Me or you?"

"We both did."

"Aye, but who first?"

"You, probably."

Kydin nodded, thinking about this. "Well, 'm sorry about that."

"For changing?"

"Yeah. Well, that and the fact that I'm gonna have t'kill you for ruinin' my nap."

Cyma sighed, shaking her head. "You know, Kydin, I know your ship's gone to hell. I know Honor and Luke make you feel guilty. And Vix isn't helping. And then, as if all that isn't enough, there's me."

"You?"

"Yeah, well, I _always_ throw you off-balance." Cyma pointed out. "You're absolutely petrified that someday I'm gonna betray you in some terrible and agonizing way."

"Oh, aye?"

"It's true." Cyma nodded and idly began fixing Kydin's ruined bed. "You think that jus' cuz most of the friends you've had have betrayed you-"

"All of 'em." Kydin argued. "All but you an' Vix. Everyone stabs me in the back."

"And why d'you suppose they do that?"

"Just to watch me scream, I s'ppose."

Cyma laughed and shook her head. "Well, Kydin, I can swear to you that I will never stab you in your back just to watch you scream. In fact, I can swear I will never betray you at all."

Kydin frowned at that, blinking. "What if you comes down to me or Riya?"

Cyma blinked, weighing her two childhood friends. "I'd go for you. Riya's got the better personality. She could make new friends. _You_, however, are absolutely hopeless. You'd be worse than dead if I weren't around to remind you life is valuable."

"Life," Kydin muttered, "is a terminal illness."

"Aye, but a fun one." Cyma finished neatening Kydin's bed. "Now, Kydin, I'm gonna let you be an angsty little drunk for one more day. Tomorrow I'm gonna come in here and start bellowing at the top of my lungs for what you did to Honor. D'you understand?"

"Most unfortunately, I do."

…

Livrec huddled in the darkness, shivering and terrified. He didn't know how long he'd been in the chest Hikin had locked him in. Every now and then, he heard the fox wander into the room and then wander out. Sometimes, he smelled food, and his greedy stomach roused itself to shriek in anguish. But mostly he just kept his eyes closed and told himself it was all a dream.

But he couldn't stop _remembering_. His mother's blood, and the smiling fox. She'd _told_ him to stay in his room, and he'd wanted to, but they'd made him come out, and…

"And how are you today, mouse?" The fox's friendly voice rang out, muffled by the heavy wood that surrounded Livrec completely.

Livrec, as always, didn't answer. He had decided to act like his father, to be so much like Vix that he wasn't at all like himself. Most of the time he didn't know exactly what Vix would do, but this time he knew how his father would react. He wouldn't say anything. He wouldn't even care.

"Hungry?"

A pause. Livrec cursed his stomach for growling.

"Thirsty?"

His throat burned. Livrec bit down hard on his paw to keep from speaking.

"Come on, mouse, how long do you think you can keep all this up? It's not very sensible, you know. No one's going to know if you _drink_ something."

_You'll know_. Livrec thought stubbornly.

"Really, Livrec, this has gone too far." Hikin sounded close, as if he was crouching over the chest he'd locked Livrec in. "What will you father say if you die locked up in a chest like a coward?"

Livrec didn't know what to say to that. He felt lost and confused and sad. He didn't know what his father would say…he didn't even _really_ know what his father would do. He just pretended and hoped he got it right.

"Vix will never forgive you for dying. Not like this." Hikin sounded sad, and so sincere it was impossible for Livrec not to believe him. "But I'm not going to _make _you come out. You can stay in there as long as you need to sulk."

_I'm not sulking!_

"I'll let you out as soon as you ask me too." Hikin let out a deep, troubled sigh and then left.

Most of the time Livrec remembered that Vix never cried.


	6. Chapter Six

((So, it's been awhile. My hard drive killed itself, and I lost all my files…not to mention Microsoft Office. I had to go back and read over everything because I lost everything I'd written down about the plot and how everything's supposed to work out in the end. Luckily, I think remember most of it. Unfortunately, I think a lot of things that turn out not to be true. So, here's my attempt to keep you entertained with what I _think_ is right while I struggle to remember what actually _is_ right. Ah, well, if nothing else I can always take the chapter down, fix it, and hope no one notices.

Oh, and as an added bonus I haven't slept well for a week or so now, so I can pretty much guarantee some genuinely creative spelling and grammar in this chapter. Point it out to me if you find it, ok? Funny as it usually is, I try to avoid embarrassing myself whenever possible.

**Edit: **So, I went back and took all the review replies off of this story, because it turns out they are illegal. I'll be taking them off of Destiny Bearing next. Thank you, Koji Jaganshi, for the warning. You're right; we most definitely do _not_ want this story deleted, especially since I'm finally recovering from my hard drive's suicide.))

…

_Laflen_ _was dying. He could feel his life seeping out of his belly, red and warm and liquid. His blood abandoned him, and he couldn't find a way to convince it to stay. He was dying, and he couldn't stop it._

_Slowly, he stopped running and fell to his knees. Then, finally, even that became too much for him. He couldn't even kneel like a coward. No, now he was sprawled on the forest floor like a cub too weak even to crawl._

_He bit back a scream of anger and fear and pain and shame and stared down at the traitorous blood that fled from him._

"_Oy, mate, havin' a bit of trouble?"_

_Laflen's eyes snapped to the vermin materializing out of the woods. The otter tried to open his mouth, tried to snarl something impressive and intimidating, but he couldn't open his mouth. Because, if he did, the scream he was holding inside would come rushing out, and he didn't think that he could ever stop screaming, if he let himself start._

_So he didn't say anything as the vermin approached and then crouched beside him, eyes on the open wound ripping apart Laflen's stomach. "Oh, ouch, mate. Bet that hurt…" A frown crossed the creature's face, full of doubt and confusion. "S'ppose you're the enemy, though…but, then, I still hold that your enemy is whoever happens t'be tryin' to kill you at the moment."_

_This didn't make sense. This didn't make sense at **all**. Was the vermin's plan simply to talk at him until Laflen died?_

"_And you're not gonna try an' kill me, are you mate?" The vermin glanced up at him, studying the expression in Laflen's eyes. "No…no, you're not."_

_Of course Laflen wasn't going to kill the vermin. He hardly had the strength to **breathe**. _

"_Stay quiet, mate. This'll hurt." Suddenly a flask was being unscrewed and a liquid was being poured over the gaping hole in Laflen's skin._

_That scream that Laflen had been holding broke free. But he only had half a second to shriek out all his pain before paws were clamped viciously over his jaw, holding his mouth closed, and the vermin was looking at him with reproachful eyes._

"_I **told** you mate. You've gotta keep quiet."_

_Laflen decided he was being tortured._

"_Right, there you go. Keep quiet. It stings bad at first, but it goes away after awhile." The vermin withdrew his paws, but Laflen was done trying to scream._

_He was, instead, trying to urge himself towards death. It seemed pathetic to give up so much for life and then just abruptly decided to die, but he had no other plans. He was going to die anyway, and he would like to die **before** the acid poured onto his wound ate its way straight through his belly._

_A minute or so passed, and Laflen's heart obstinately kept beating._

_Then, "A'right, mate, you're done."_

_Laflen blinked, startled enough to reply. "Wha…?" _

_The vermin poked his stomach lightly. "I'm done. You're bandaged. Get up and scurry off."_

_Laflen stared at him. Shocked._

"_Here, have some of this." Another flask being opened. Laflen eyed it with suspicion until the vermin rolled his eyes and drank some himself._

_Cautiously, Laflen took the offered flask and, as he was very thirsty, took a large gulp. It burned. Burned viciously._

_He coughed, choked. Gagged. And felt better. Much better._

"_There you go mate, now get up." The vermin helped him to his feet and then froze at the sound of a voice._

"_Where'd the brat go?"_

"_I dunno. You were s'pposed to be watchin' him."_

"_Yeah, well, he's sneaky."_

"_That what you gonna tell the general?"_

"_No, cuz we're gonna **find** him."_

_Laflen watched his savior's expression darken. "You've gotta go now, mate." The vermin gave him a little shove. "Run that way, towards the river."_

_Laflen, too stunned to argue, obediently set off into the darkness. _

Honor woke up, but the dream still haunted him. He supposed it always would…especially since it wasn't a dream at all. A memory. One he wished he could forget.

He sighed and crawled out of the boat he'd been hiding in for several days now. He didn't know what it was called, only that there was more than one and Kydin seemed to love to use these to get ashore, rather than swim. _He's not a proper otter at all…_

Honor stumbled to the galley, still more than slightly asleep. He'd been following this pattern of sleeping during the day and eating at night rather well, but that didn't mean his body had adjusted to it yet. His mind, as it usually did these days, seemed barely aware of what was going on. It was this lack of mental prowess, perhaps, that led to his not noticing Cyma sitting in the galley until he was already well inside it.

"Oh." He said when he finally saw her. "Damn."

She nodded. "Caught you." Her voice, while faintly mocking, was mostly kind and a bit concerned.

He rubbed at his eyes, as if hoping she would go away. "A'right, you did." He agreed resentfully. "So, why are you here? What do you want?"

"I'm here to tell you that you can't hide like this. The ship's too small, and Kydin'll get bored of it eventually."

"_Kydin_ can go drown himself for all I care."

Cyma blinked. "And what'd he do to you?"

"What _didn't_ he do?" Honor retorted.

Cyma sighed. "Honor, you have to-"

"Do you know, too?" He demanded suddenly, astonishing them both with the anger in his voice.

"Know what?" She asked, confused.

"Know that 'Honor' isn't my real name?"

"Well, I do _now_." She gave him a strange, searching look. "But I didn't before. I guess it _is_ a bit obvious, now that I think about it. After all, what mother would name their cub 'Honor?'"

Honor found himself fighting back laughter, and he almost hated Cyma because of it. "Don't make me laugh."

She glanced up at him and then shrugged, looking away. "Alright, I won't. Sometimes you just need to throw a fit, aye?"

"You could've said it in a way that doesn't make me sound so idiotic and immature."

"'s not idiotic to get frustrated, mate. It's not even idiotic to throw a fit. Maybe a bit immature, but I never saw anythin' admirable about bein' mature."

She looked into his eyes and sighed, as if unhappy with what she found there. "Honor, before you try to grow up all quick-like, there are a few things you should probably be told. The first is that growing up won't stop the pain. So it's no use tryin' to be like Kydin until it stops hurtin'. Cuz it didn't work for him, and it won't work for you."

"Kydin?" Honor snorted. "Kydin isn't like this. He doesn't…doesn't _feel_ like _this_."

"How would you know?" Cyma demanded. "You ever been around him when he's not pretending to be his father? You know, Honor, the king was a great otter. There are things he could do without thinkin' that even our mouse friend Luke couldn't do with all his strength. And that poor bastard did all he could for his son, but it wasn't enough. Once you teach a cub to be like _that_, to show _nothing_, there's no hope for him. It's like teaching a cub to idolize a hawk. Sooner or later that cub's gonna try and fly, and either it kills him or it breaks him. With Kydin, we're still waitin' t'see which comes first."

Honor shook his head. "I don't believe you."

"That's cuz you don't know Kydin. Not really." She stood up. "You know, I don't know what Kydin did to you. I know it was cruel and that it probably seemed pointless to you. But, if it helps, you should know that Kydin would never hurt someone unless he has a reason. He's not a sadist. He just…doesn't have much of a conscience."

"Why are you justifying him?" Honor demanded. "What does he have over _you_?"

"Over me?" She laughed. "Nothing. Everything. My childhood. My _life_. That poor fool has been with me since as far back as either of us cares to remember. It was always me, Vix, Riya, and him. We wrecked a lot of havoc in our time, youngling. Nearly got ourselves killed more than a few times, as well."

"I can't imagine Kydin as a cub." Not that Honor was trying incredibly hard. He had a feeling that picturing Kydin as young and relatively carefree would probably dampen his hatred of the otter. And it seemed to him that his hate was all that was keeping him together.

"Ah, well, most can't. It's too bad, really. He was…interesting. Very good at wiggling out of trouble and leaving the blame on Vix, as I recall." She smiled at her memories. "An' Vix, of course, was always too loyal, or at least too proud, to tell the truth."

Honor scowled. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

"That depends entirely on what it is you think I'm doing."

"You're trying to cheer me up." It was an accusation.

Cyma smirked. "Yes, well, you caught me."

Honor sighed. "I don't know what I hate more about pirates. That they knock you down or that they try and help you up."

Cyma laughed. "Ah, mate, now you're just being stubborn. C'mon, smile. You're alive, I'm alive, and the world has yet to explode. What more can you honestly ask for?"

Honor stared at her for a while, thinking about all the things he wanted to say and all the reasons why he shouldn't say them. Finally, he answered. "My real name's Laflen."

She blinked, tilted her head. And then she sighed and looked more than a little sad. "And no doubt Kydin figured it out."

Honor nodded. "Yes. He did. And he used it _against_ me." He felt his emotionless shell cracking. "I don't even know _why_. It's not like he can gain anything _from_ it. Maybe he could've used it against me later, surprised me with it. But me knowing that he knows, what's the _purpose_? I don't _understand_."

"Ah, young one, I can't answer that. Kydin does what he does for reasons he doesn't share." She stared at him sadly. "I wish, though, that he didn't play such vicious games with you."

Honor was vaguely aware that he was shivering violently. He didn't know why and didn't think he wanted to. "I just wanted to _forget_." He explained quietly. "Why didn't he let me _forget_?"

Cyma turned away from him, and he stood there twitching until she came back with what appeared to be a cup of some sort. "Drink it, young one." She pressed the cup into the paw that trembled the least. "If nothing else, it'll make you sleep."

Honor stared at the murky liquid. He knew he shouldn't drink it. Knew his family and his friends would not have wanted him to. Knew they would've scorned anyone who took comfort from something like this.

But they were dead, and Honor was in a different sort of world now.

And they would've told him not to, they would've forbidden him to drink, but Honor was not Laflen. Not anymore. And Honor didn't care. He just didn't care right now.

Cyma looked up as movement caught her eye. And she wondered sadly how long the Redwall Warrior had been watching from the doorway.

…

Kydin woke up to the sound of his door slamming open. He had time to curse and roll out of his hammock before the mouse got to him. And then, curiously enough, he had far too much time.

Too much time to feel the explosion of pain from his chest. Too much time to feel his ribs absorbing the full impact of the collision between him and the mouse, and then to feel the vicious snap of his spine ramming back against the wooden floor, to feel his skull slamming violently back. Here he was, tired and hungover and getting the hell beat out of him by a mouse who had sworn to protect the innocent and to never attack an unarmed opponent, and time seemed to have slowed to a vicious crawl.

Kydin's only comfort in all of this was that he was someone special, indeed, if he could enrage Luke so much that the mouse would disregard his oath.

And then, finally, his brain caught up with his body, and he realized that he could fight back.

And he did. For awhile.

There was even a moment in their brawl where he might have won. When the two of them were perfectly matched, both of them tired and injured and a little bit dazed from repeated blows to the head. And then the mouse grabbed what appeared to be an empty wine bottle and bludgeoned Kydin's bruised ribs with it.

Kydin ran out of air and willpower, and he lay there lifelessly until the mouse regained enough of a conscience to realize what he was doing. Then Luke stood up, panting and bleeding, and stared down at him in hatred and anger and, because he _was_ still a hero and because he absolutely _had_ to feel guilty for everything, remorse. And then, out of nowhere, he kicked Kydin once more in the ribs with all the energy he had left.

In response, Kydin pushed himself up with trembling arms and vomited all over the mouse's feet.

Luke groaned in disgust and stumbled backwards, retreating until he ran into Kydin's hammock. And, somehow, in his wild attempt to get away from what he thought was a gigantic spider web, the mouse managed to get himself completely entangled. He hung just off the floor, unable to stretch far enough to touch the ground, completely caught up and unable to get free.

Kydin looked up at him and laughed. The laughter hurt his ribs and very nearly made him pass out, but he did it anyway. Quite possibly because he wanted to show Luke that mocking the mouse was more important to him than his own pain.

"Got yourself in a right fix there, Hero." Kydin pointed out, his voice more than a little rough.

"Says the otter lying in his own vomit."

Kydin snorted and slowly crawled his way out of the small pool of warm blood and vomit he had been lying in. He propped his back against the wall and wished fervently his ribs would stop their agonized wailing. "So, Luke, have you absolutely lost your mind or was there a reason behind this most spectacular morning assault?"

"I remember who he is now." Luke informed Kydin angrily. "I remember, and _you_ are a bastard for making him remember too."

Kydin coughed and wheezed, rubbing regretfully at his ribs. "We talkin' 'bout Laflen, then?"

"Honor. He wants to be called that, you _call_ him that. You have no right to keep throwing his past in his face."

"No right?" Kydin snorted. "Please, mouse, I have every right. Whose ship is he on, anyway?"

"So that gives you the right to _torture_ him?"

"Yes." Kydin nodded. "If I feel so inclined."

Luke shook his head as much as he could. "You're disgusting."

Kydin laughed again. At the moment, it was the only weapon he had. "Please, Hero. If you're gonna lie to the young one, fine. We all lie to cubs. But don't think because _he_ believes your unrealistic philosophies that _I_ do."

"I can't believe that _you_ of all the creatures in the _world_ are accusing anyone else of having 'unrealistic _philosophies_.'" Luke seemed more than a little upset by this. In fact, he seemed about ready to maul Kydin again, if he could only convince the hammock to let him go. "_You_, the otter who thinks the world's out to get him!"

"I don't think the world's out to get me." Kydin argued. "For the world to be out t'get me, it'd have to give a damn about me first."

Luke struggled briefly to get free, but only managed to snap one or two of the thin ropes.

"Oy, be careful with that." Kydin objected loudly. "I _sleep_ in that."

"You would." Luke retorted darkly.

Kydin, who was feeling a bit better now that he had been able to reassure himself that his ribs were, in fact, unbroken, went about the long process of climbing to his feet. "So, mouse, what is it _exactly _that I did to Laflen that prompted this attack?"

"You know what you did." Luke snapped moodily. "And his name's '_Honor_.'"

"Tell yourself what you want. If it was good enough for his mother, it's good enough for me." Kydin paused. "Besides, 'Honor' is a bit of a joke, isn't it? Considering who he is. _What_ he is."

"Funny. _I_ would've thought it perfectly fitting."

"Ah, well, you're not a pirate, mate. We've got a skewed view on what constitutes as honor, apparently. See, when _we_ make promises," Kydin swayed victoriously to his feet, "we consider it a bit dishonorable to just go an' break our word."

"Way I heard it, your kind broke the treaty first."

Kydin made a soft angry noise, one of utter disgust and contempt. "It was one of the Nameless One's ships that went sailin' up their river. It flew one of our flags, but anyone with any sense could've figured out that it wasn't a pirate ship." He paused, sneering. "But then, no one ever gave _their_ kind much credit for having sense."

"Actually, we did." Luke argued.

"I meant no one with any kind of brain themselves." Kydin amended and leaned up against the wall, still winded from standing. "Lookin' back, the irony's rather overwhelmin'. The Nameless One sends a scout to test 'em, and they up and declare war on their only sea-farin' ally."

"_Ally_? You weren't _allies_. You'd signed a treaty that said you weren't goin' to attack each other. That's all."

Kydin laughed. "Is that what they told your kind, mate? Honestly. The pride of those bastards astounds me, sometimes."

Luke's eyes narrowed. "And what version did they tell _you_?"

"Oh, they didn't have to tell me, Hero." Kydin's eyes shone with amusement. "My name's on the treaty. I was one of the negotiators. We were allies, mate. Right up until they mistook a decrepit boat for one of our ships and slaughtered the next crew that went through neutral ground." Kydin nodded thoughtfully. "That pretty much ruined our relationship."

"Right. Well, as always, Kydin, your view of reality has been…entertaining"

Kydin laughed. "Not half as entertaining to you as it is me, mouse. You're forgetting that the Nameless One had to sail over an ocean to get to 'em." His smile was cold and violent. "First time in my memory we've let rouge ships pass through our waters without so much as questionin' 'em."

Luke paled, stared, and then trashed around so violently that he pulled Kydin's hammock free from the wall. He did not, however, manage to free himself from the vicious knot of roping he had wrapped himself up in. "_Traitors_!" He accused.

Kydin looked momentarily taken aback. "We are not. They broke the treaty first."

"Not just to them, Kydin. To _all_ of us. You let _him_ travel across the ocean. You let him onto _our_ lands! Now that he's got a foothold on our continent, he won't stop until he has it _all_."

Kydin looked at him curiously. He had never quite seen anyone's eyes such an odd shade of pink. "What you are forgetting, mouse, is that the only land pirates concern themselves with is Shray. The rest," he shrugged, "is just wood and food. It hardly matters to us who owns what we steal."

And then, suddenly, Luke's eyes went red, and the hearty ropes snapped, and it occurred to Kydin that maybe those stories he had heard about Redwall Warrior were true, and maybe he shouldn't taunt one like this.

And life seemed especially pointless to Kydin when Luke threw him against the wall and very nearly broke his spine. Pointless and overly problematic.

He lay there, far too distracted by pain and adrenaline to feel helpless, and stared up at Luke in quiet surprise. "Are your tantrums always this violent?" He asked, a little shocked to find his voice so soft and weak.

Luke stared at him, still bloody from their previous fight. He was red-eyed and angry and temporarily insane. He looked fully prepared to kill Kydin, and he looked like it wouldn't particularly bother him to do so.

And then, abruptly, Luke wheeled around and stumbled backwards, as if _he_ had been the one thrown halfway across the room. He tripped over empty mugs and fell clumsily to the floor. He lay there for awhile and then sat up slowly. He looked warily over at Kydin and sighed heavily. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, perfectly alright. In fact, I'm overjoyed at finding my new purpose in life." Kydin was holding his ribs because he was a little afraid they were about to crack apart. "Imagine, going my entire life without realizing I was meant to be the personal scapegoat of the Redwall Warrior."

Luke snorted and tried to appear intimidating. He failed mostly because he had that angry, frustrated look on his face that all adults got when they were desperately trying to find a more socially acceptable coping mechanism than sobbing and screaming until they ran out of anger and energy. "I only threw you once." He said finally, sounding a bit petulant but mostly annoyed.

"Twice, actually." Kydin corrected almost cheerfully. "Against different walls, though. So I suppose you might've forgotten."

Luke frowned. "Did you hit your head?"

"No." Kydin answered just as happily. "But you did. Repeatedly."

"What are you so happy about, then?"

"Oh, nothing." Kydin answered and then, after a short pause, continued. "You've just reaffirmed my belief in my own convictions. I must admit I was shaky there for awhile, what with you being so damn noble. But you've just completely proved my theories." He paused, twisted painfully so he could look Luke in the eyes, and smiled with such sincerity that it stung. "You have absolutely no idea how wonderful it feels to be right about everything."

Luke was certain that the otter had evaluated every single phrase, word, or curse and decided that that little miniature speech was the most devastating thing he could have said. And he had been right.

Luke got up and left without saying a word, waking up Aderyn and sending her to her captain before he went and stared off into the dawn. He decided then that he would give up everything, including a chance to kill the Nameless One and stop the tyrant's bloody and merciless slaughter, if the mouse could just go home. All he wanted, at that moment, was to fall asleep in his own bed, wake up in the world he belonged in, and be in a place where morality and safety were taken for granted. He decided he didn't care that he was useless there, that he would be just another abbey dweller eating too much and exercising too little. All he wanted, really, was to be home.

And then he realized that he was willing to give up the safety of the entire world just so that he could have a little break at Redwall, and he felt a terrible wave of guilt and self-loathing. But it didn't bother him, really.

He was what he was. And heroes were used to guilt.

…

Luke woke up because Honor was talking. "-and I don't think he's going to like this. Really, Cyma, shouldn't we wait until he wakes up on his own?"

"Of course not. It's best to catch him when he's still half-asleep. That way he won't be completely aware of what he's agreeing to."

"Who's agreeing to what?" Luke inquired sleepily, rubbing at his eyes and wondering how he'd gotten into the bed he was currently sprawled across.

"You're agreeing to watching Zai while the rest of us go off and have a discussion with the natives."

Luke's mind pondered this for a while. In the end, he didn't exactly succeeded on deciphering it, but he did manage to figure out that all he would have to do was keep an eye on a small mouse. "Oh, fine. Sure then. G'night."

"Good morning, actually." Cyma argued and set a small bundle of snoring fur on the bed beside Luke's. He realized he was in the room Aderyn used to stitch up wounds and the like. He figured that was alright. "We'll just leave the two of you to your dreams, then."

Luke nodded vaguely and yawned. "I like that idea." He confessed.

"Yes." That was Kydin's voice, but it didn't strike Luke as particularly malice-filled today, so the mouse figured that was alright, too. "I thought you would."

"I don't like it." Honor sounded a bit nervous, almost afraid. Luke stirred a bit, eyes opening again.

"And no one likes you." Kydin sounded almost cheerful. "Come on then, Cyma, Honor. We're going."

"But what if he realizes-"

"If you don't come with us now, you'll be around when he does." Kydin answered rather cryptically. "Are you coming or not?"

Honor paused uneasily. "Well, I _guess_ so…"

"Wonderful." A door creaked and footsteps started fading away. "You might want to work on your facial expressions, Honor. This is not a good place to have 'victim' written on your face like that."

Luke stirred again, confused and getting the vaguest impression that he should be alarmed by something. But then he looked over at the sleeping mouse cub and decided, well, she did _need_ watching if the rest were going somewhere. And he nodded, reassured, and fell back to sleep.

…

Honor was utterly and totally convinced he was going to die. He was surrounded by creatures far too big and far too strong. Creatures, Kydin had explained, who had become this way due to their being confined on an island with them as the top predators for so long that their offspring had just started growing larger and larger. Now, here they were, walking along a path with mice as big as otters, all of them well-armed, and all of them with especially sharp teeth.

"You should calm down, mate." Kydin threw an arm across Honor's shoulders and grinned down at him rather demonically. "They're not gonna hurt us, after all."

"They're _huge_." Honor pointed out in a whisper.

"Well, obviously." Kydin's voice boomed in comparison. "Where did you think we got Carden from, anyway?"

Honor cast a dubious look on the grim-faced mouse. "I was hoping he was sort of…unique."

"Ah, well, everything you hope for can't come true." Kydin released Honor and looked around in unfeigned cheerfulness. "It's good to be back." He announced finally.

"You'd think, after nearly getting me sacrificed here, you'd be a little more reserved about your love of the place." Aderyn snapped at him, apparently a little less fond of the island than Kydin was.

"You'd think." Kydin agreed. "But it turned our alright in the end, didn't it?"

Aderyn shot him a rather nasty glare. "Yes, well, if you'd stayed two more minutes at the bargaining table, and I wouldn't have a _spleen_, would I?"

Kydin gave her a long, thoughtful look. Then his somber expression shattered and was replaced with a smirk. "You know, Aderyn, that statement would probably mean a great deal to me if I had any idea what a spleen was. Or, for that matter, where exactly it's located."

"You're hopeless." Aderyn accused.

"You're helpless." Kydin retorted, and Aderyn seemed unable to come up with a witty reply to that.

"So, Kydin," Cyma moved to walk next to Kydin, "what puts you in such a lovely mood?"

"A mere mental breakthrough." Kydin waved a paw dismissively. "Nothing much."

"Oh?" Cyma inquired curiously. "A breakthrough?"

He nodded. "The world is exactly how it should be, Cyma." He spread his arms wide, and it was impossible to tell if he was attempting to embrace the world or if he was challenging it to a fight to the death. "It's still an apathetic bastard."

"Only you could be so happy while spouting such depressing sentiments." Cyma noted, shaking her head. "I don't suppose I want to know how you came about this little realization?"

"Just a little midmorning beating I received from our hero." Kydin lifted his shirt proudly to show bruises so darkly purple they looked almost black. "Look, Cyma. Aren't they pretty?"

Cyma hissed in sympathy and even Aderyn made a sort of pitying grunt. "_Luke_ did this to you?" Cyma asked, looking strangely guilty. "_Why_?"

"I see you're hardly in the mood to appreciate their beauty." Kydin let his shirt fall and gave Honor an inquisitive look. "I don't suppose you're feeling up to any violent attacks? Any sort of homicidal rampage?"

"Um." Honor blinked. "No."

"Too bad. That would've just made my day." Kydin glanced around curiously and signaled to the nearest overgrown mouse. "Take us to Gavrinji, will you? Your tribe doesn't have what we're after today."

The mouse made a decidedly unpleasant face and signaled to the other mice. They left without a word.

"And now we're abandoned in the middle of the island without a guide." Nidal sounded a bit disgruntled. "Wonderful."

"Don't be so cynical, Nidal." Kydin gave the squirrel a brief disapproving look. "Carden came from here. He knows where we're going."

Carden looked a little alarmed. "I _used_ to know this island." He sounded a little uncertain. "I don't know if I remember."

"Of course you do." Kydin shrugged unconcernedly. "Because if you don't, I'll just have to snap out of this good mood and find the way myself. And if I have to do that, I doubt I'll be very nice." He looked around. "To any of you."

…

By the time Luke realized they were docked at an island and that Kydin's "chat with the natives" probably involved at least minor theft, it was too late for him to do anything about it. And the irony of Kydin using Luke's sleep-drugged mind to manipulate him was not lost on the mouse.

After all, Luke _had_ attacked him before the otter could fully wake up. And, looking back, he knew he hadn't done it simply because he was in a fit of rage. He'd purposefully attacked the otter while he was mostly asleep because, when he was awake, Kydin was more than a match for him if the mouse didn't have his sword.

And he felt rather guilty about the whole thing, really, even though he knew he shouldn't. He knew that Kydin was a pirate, and a rather heartless one at that. But somehow, Kydin struck Luke as almost…tragic. As if, somewhere underneath all the lies he tried to tell, there was something salvageable and decent about Kydin. Something more than a little twisted, admittedly, but still mostly pure in its intentions.

Luke kept it to himself, but he tended to be very intuitive about others, especially when it came to things they were trying to hide. And Kydin's entire act, his harsh, cold, sadistic facade struck Luke as a little too strong, a little too forced. He hid it well, it was true, but Kydin wasn't half as cruel as he tried to portray himself.

He was, Luke supposed, the type that could sacrifice a hundred lives for a thousand. The coolly logical type that was willing to make concessions and offer bargains when other creatures, like Luke, would balk and die for it. The kind of creature you wanted to have around to advise you and to challenge you, but not to have at your back in a fight, not if he wasn't completely certain that he wanted to die with you. He was just the sort of otter who could abandon you when you needed him most if he didn't think the odds of your survival were high enough.

But, if Luke had learned anything about Kydin's sort, he had learned that all of them had weaknesses. They were not used to guarding from emotional attacks, so they left themselves open. Tiny little chinks in their armor they didn't even detect. For instance, Luke knew that Kydin needed Vix. And Luke knew that Kydin needed Cyma, although in a less demanding way. He didn't need Cyma around him constantly like Vix, but there was a reason he had come to her rescue, and Luke highly doubted it was the reward that had brought the pirate into a prison he had admitted to thinking inescapable.

And, Luke knew, Kydin needed his crew. He had seen it in the way Kydin watched them. It was the way Luke knew he watched the abbey dwellers. Kydin would not die for his crew as Luke would die for those under his protection, but Luke could also imagine Kydin's vengeance would be much more violent than Luke's would be. It was all a matter of instincts, really, and Luke's survival instincts were just not as strong as Kydin's.

Luke sighed and looked over at Zai, who was happily devouring the sandwich he had made for her. "You want anything else?" He asked.

She looked up at him. "Tell me a story?"

Luke blinked. He mentally went through all the stories he knew. Finally, because he knew it would annoy Kydin, he decided on one. Unsheathing his sword, he held it so that Zai could admire it. "You see this sword?"

She gave him a pointed look. "I'm not blind." She answered, sounding almost offended.

"Of course not." Luke agreed. "Anyway, it originally belonged to a mouse named Martin…"

…

Honor had never seen otters so big. Or so brawny. Or, for that matter, so obviously uneducated. They lounged, the king and his heir, on wooden thrones decorated rather morbidly with skulls of various animals. The pair of them sized up Kydin's group with greedy eyes and tried to hide their excitement with grim scowls. Their guards, all twelve of them, lounged around the thrones with wooden spears that were stained, quite obviously, with blood.

They said something in a strange, guttural language.

Kydin glanced at Carden. "What?"

"They said they don't like us all cluttered together like this." Carden translated slowly, obviously struggling to remember the language. "They want us spread out."

"Making it all the easier to slaughter us. Lovely." Kydin shrugged. "Spread out then. Vix, Ladin, Nidal, Aderyn, go to the back."

Honor winced and tried, hopefully, to follow along with Vix and the rest. He wanted to get as far away from the barbaric otters as possible.

"Honor, get up here."

Honor froze and turned warily. Kydin was looking directly at him.

"Go stand with Carden." He gestured at the mouse that stood off to his right. "And try not to look so utterly terrified, will you?" He added as Cyma moved slowly off to his left, leaving Kydin standing directly before the thrones.

The king growled something that sounded particularly violent and gestured angrily.

"What's that?" Kydin turned towards Carden.

"He says his stomach is…" Carden stumbled over the words and then, shrugging uneasily, continued. "He says his stomach is eating his intestines. He's leaving."

"Indigestion, then?" Kydin inquired.

"Apparently a very volatile case." Cyma muttered as the older otter got up and wandered off into the forest. A pair of guards climbed languidly to their feet, stretched, and jogged after him.

The younger otter watched the proceedings with a lazy sort of frown and then, turning towards Kydin, grinned. He stated something clearly and calmly and then turned his attentions towards Carden, waiting.

Obediently, Carden translated. "He made a clever sort of pun about talking prince to prince." Carden announced. "It wouldn't make much sense translated. Just smile and laugh."

Kydin listened attentively and then laughed. The lounging otter laughed back.

"What's his name again?" Kydin asked.

"Gavrinli." Carden answered.

"Rather close to his father's name, isn't it?" Kydin asked and then shrugged, dismissing his own question. "Anyway, tell him we want the usual."

Carden talked to Gavrinli in that same strange language and then listened silently to the answer. And then he looked at Kydin warily. "He says that's very nice, but he doesn't want what we usually pay."

Kydin frowned. "He doesn't want metal weapons?"

"No. He says that's his father's weakness, not his. He much prefers what the other pirates bring him."

Kydin looked a bit offended. "Ask him what they bring."

"He already told me." Carden answered uneasily.

"Oh? And what is it he wants?"

Carden glanced around a little nervously and then, shrugging his huge shoulders, answered. "Slaves."

Kydin blinked and, much to Honor's alarm, looked directly at him. Then, more curious than anything else, he looked back at Gavrinli. "Well, we don't have any. Tell him that."

Carden did.

Gavrinli didn't seem to be listening. Actually, he seemed to be staring very intently at something to Kydin's left. Honor, wondering what could possibly have caught the massive otter's attention, followed Gavrinli's gaze to find Cyma looking more than a little annoyed. Startled, he glanced back towards the throne to find the otter pointing at Cyma and speaking calmly in that harsh language of his.

"What's he want?" Kydin inquired politely.

"Um." Carden looked vastly uncomfortable as he gestured towards Cyma. "Her."

Kydin looked slightly stunned, then mildly intrigued. He glanced curiously towards Cyma.

Cyma stared grimly back at him.

Kydin quirked a questioning eyebrow.

"Kydin!" Cyma's voice was loud and angry. "_No_!"

Kydin seemed to be stunned by the vehemence of her reaction. "No need to get _angry_." He said. "He's a strapping young otter, I didn't know if you wanted to-"

"_Kydin_!"

"Oh, fine." Kydin sighed dramatically and turned back to Carden. "It's a no. Tell him no."

Carden turned back towards Gavrinli and communicated the refusal. Gavrinli scowled and gestured, more intently, towards Cyma. He said something that sounded very, very angry.

"What'd he say?" Kydin asked as if he were completely unaware of the fact that the guards at Gavrinli's feet were shifting slowly into crouches.

"It's…difficult to translate directly." Carden sounded almost disturbed. "And it might make Honor sick."

Kydin glanced towards Honor. Gavrinli glanced towards Honor as well. And then the gigantic otter rumbled something that sounded much friendlier.

Carden, however, didn't seem to think this was good news. "He's changed his mind." The mouse announced uneasily. "He says he wants Honor now."

Kydin blinked and seemed to be trying very hard not to laugh. "Whatever for?" He asked finally, his voice full of the laughter he was battling to suppress.

Carden shot Kydin a decidedly unpleasant look. Cyma did as well, though Kydin didn't notice. "A sacrifice, Kydin." Carden answered.

"Oh." Kydin smiled. "Well, that's alright then. Not like _we_ have a use for him."

"Kydin, you can't be serious!" Cyma objected.

"Well, Cyma, have you heard their excuses for these sacrifices? They say if they don't sacrifice a creature every seven days, the world will die." Kydin shrugged carelessly. "It's just too bad Luke's not here. That way he could save the world, _and_ we could be rid of him."

"You're not doing this, Kydin." Cyma glared at Kydin. "You are not giving one of us _away_."

"Well, I didn't give him _you_. You'd think you'd be a bit more grateful."

"If you had _tried_ to sell me, I would've slit your throat before you finished saying the words." Cyma snapped. "Now stop scaring the young one, and tell the bastard no one here is for sale."

"Cyma, really, you have no grasp of politics." Kydin shook his head sadly.

"No. I really don't." Cyma didn't appear to mind.

Kydin glanced over at Honor thoughtfully. Honor was staring with wide-eyed horror at the guards and their wooden spears. He was imagining how long it would take to saw someone apart with one of those things. "Oy, mate." Kydin sounded mildly apologetic. "I was just jokin'. I'm not going t'sell you."

Honor took a deep breath, realizing he had forgotten to breathe for nearly a full minute. He shivered. "Not funny, Kydin."

"Not to you, I imagine." Kydin agreed. "Anyway, Carden, tell him we're not for sale. Any of us. Unless he's interested in fanatical sword-waving mice from Redwall. In which case, I am more than willing to make a deal."

Carden turned slowly to Gavrinli and answered. Gavrinli looked downright wrathful. He snarled something.

Carden winced. "He says if you don't change your mind, he'll kill all of us and take the both of them."

"Well, then he wouldn't be killing _all_ of us, now would he?" Kydin retorted, but he didn't seem to be in a joking mood anymore. He straightened, his paw clenching around the hilt of his sword. "Tell him we've killed his kind before. And kindly point out, if you will, that I am not at all averse to doing it again."

As Carden was translating this, he was slowly backing away. Kydin and Cyma were doing the same, and Honor belatedly joined them. He realized Aderyn, Vix, and the twins were moving quickly to stand behind them.

Gavrinli stood up, as did his guards. He drew what appeared to be a sword made of actual metal, and, without any more guttural threats, launched himself at Kydin.

A strange sort of mixed-up brawl erupted. The otter guards were much bigger and much stronger, but their weapons were pathetically weak. Honor drew the sword he had stolen and easily sliced a wooden spear in half. The guard that came after it, however, was not so easily dealt with.

He slammed into Honor so violently that the much smaller otter went flying backwards, very nearly hitting Carden. The guard reached for him, apparently not intent on murder, and Ladin came bounding out of nowhere. The squirrel landed on the giant otter's back and stabbed the otter straight through the neck. Blood gushed out, painting Honor crimson, and Ladin winked cheerfully before leaping onto a guard that appeared to be harassing his brother.

Honor scrambled to his feet to find that the crew he had been traveling with, had become _friends_ with, was actually a group of demonic murderous fiends masquerading as mostly harmless pirates. They were ripping the guards apart, slaughtering them so easily it was almost pathetic. Even when the much larger guards managed to injure one of the crew, the nearest shipmate stepped in and massacred the unfortunate guard. They seemed almost impossibly skilled, seemed to know each others' strengths and weaknesses and reactions impossibly well.

Honor suddenly realized why Kydin's crew had been treated so oddly while they had been on Shray. It was true, they weren't the typical raid-and-pillage type of pirates. They didn't have the numbers for that. He had thought they were just sea-faring thieves, sneaking in and stealing like they had taken Cyma and Luke. But, from the way they were killing, they might as well have been assassins. And, though Honor didn't know it, they were. When there was enough money involved.

A strange, low-pitched shriek caught his attention, and Honor twisted to see Cyma crouching on Gavrinli's chest, holding tight to a dagger that protruded from the gigantic otter's ribs. She scowled grimly as she pulled another dagger from her belt, grabbed the top of Gavrinli's writhing head, and shoved her dagger up through the underside of his jaw, through his mouth, pushing until it lodged deep in his skull. He stopped screaming, stopped struggling, stopped everything.

Honor could see glimmer of steel through his gaping mouth.

"If you're gonna vomit, you're gonna want t'roll over." The usual sarcasm was curiously missing from Kydin's voice as he peered down at Honor. "And it helps if you don't look too long at the gorier bits."

Honor rolled over onto his belly and gagged helplessly for several long seconds. But he didn't vomit. Not until he heard the sickening crunch as Cyma pulled her daggers free.

"'s alright, mate. Everyone does it after their first fight." Ladin patted Honor's back reassuringly. "Vix does it every time."

Honor looked around in disbelief until he found Vix. The mouse was walking back towards the carnage, rubbing vomit off the lower part of his face. He looked angry and bloody, but unhurt and unashamed. "They'll be after the ship now, Kydin." He seemed perfectly calm, as always. Honor was comforted, for some reason, both by the mouse's apathy and his obvious and unabashed display of weakness.

"Get up, Honor." Kydin grabbed Honor's arm and tugged him, shivering, to his feet. He held out Honor's sword, clean and shining, and Honor shoved it hastily back into its sheath. "We have to run."

Honor groaned.

"Aye, mate, I know. But these tribal bastards like fire, and my ship does not." Kydin tightened his grip on Honor's arm as he broke into a sprint. Honor had absolutely no choice but to run.

…

Luke looked up curiously as Kydin exploded onto the decks. Apparently, the pirate had scaled the same ropes the overgrown otters had when they had attacked a few minutes ago. Kydin stared in shock at the corpses that sprawled lifelessly at Luke's feet. "You…" Kydin's gaze shifted up to Luke. "How did you-_Why_ did you…?"

Luke smiled at the look on Kydin's face. "Well, you _did_ leave the little one in my charge." He pointed out. "And she seemed to take offense at their attempts to set fire to your ship."

"So you killed them?" Kydin demanded. "_Seven_ of them?"

"Well, to be honest, it wasn't that difficult. They were rather enthusiastic, but poorly trained, and their weapons were made of _wood_. If they hadn't attacked me as a group, I would have felt guilty for killing them." Luke carefully wiped the blood off of his sword. "As it was…" He shrugged.

Kydin, still dripping from his desperately quick swim, stared at Luke for several long seconds. Then, slowly, he shook his head and scowled. "Ah, damn." He muttered. "There goes my mental clarity."


	7. Chapter Seven

…

Kydin stared down at the ocean, watching the moon's reflection as he tapped his paw restlessly against the railing. He was lost in a world of thoughts he could never quite understand at a decent hour, let alone at an ungodly one like this. But he couldn't sleep. Not anymore. He wasn't used to nightmares like the one he'd just had, and he wasn't sure that sleep was worth the risk of having another like it.

"Now what're the odds, do you think, that the both of us can't sleep?"

Kydin sighed, expelling a breath he had been unaware he was holding. "Cyma."

"Who else?" She leaned her back against the railing, arms crossed over her chest and eyes narrowed at the sky. "So, what was it this time?"

Kydin smirked, remembering how this had been a regular occurrence when they were young. Whenever one of them couldn't sleep, they always ended up out here, and it had always seemed so ironic that they rarely ended up out here alone.

"Reality's more comforting than dreams." He admitted finally. His eyes skidded reluctantly in her direction, tearing themselves away from the floating moon. "You?"

She sighed and looked over at him, and he wondered at the emotions he read on her face. "I can't tell reality from dreams anymore. The world's gone insane."

He smiled. "Hasn't it always been?"

But she didn't have the patience for jokes tonight. She looked away, down towards the deck, and sighed. "Then maybe it's gone sane. I dunno. All I know is that it didn't use to be like this."

"What didn't?" As far as he could tell, things were beginning to mirror the past almost uncomfortably.

"I…I don't know if I can _say_ it, Kydin. It's kinda one of those things that you can't describe."

He decided not to issue any sort of witty remark. For one thing, he was far too tired for such mental activities. For another, Cyma sounded genuinely distressed.

"Well, couldn't you try?"

She sighed and turned around to face the ocean. "I dunno, Kydin, can't you feel it for yourself?"

He glanced back towards the ocean, eyes narrowed as he concentrated, more to humor her than anything else. Finally, he shrugged and looked back over at her. "I don't feel anything. It may be a bit warmer than-"

"No, Kydin. That's not it. That's not it at all." She laughed softly, but it seemed almost like she was trying not to cry. "Don't you get it, Kydin?" Her eyes connected with his, and for some reason he felt like he was drowning. "Don't you understand that the world, _our world_, is dying?"

He tired to pretend the words meant nothing, that it was a joke. "Well, that's wonderfully dramatic. But I don't see-"

"I know what you did…what _we_ did." She shook her head, eyes locked on a distant landscape he couldn't see. "And for _what_, Kydin? For vengeance? For pride? There had damn well better have been a decent payoff, because you sold our _world_."

Kydin scowled. "Sold it to _who_?"

"The Nameless One, Kydin." She gestured at the sea around her. "You think he's stupid? You think he doesn't know that you _let_ him through? You think that won't annoy him just a bit? Once he's done with land, Kydin, he's gonna take the seas. And by letting him through to the other continent you gave him another front, another place to launch his ships."

"Cyma, if it comes to that, we have a _thousand_ ports to-"

"No, Kydin. We have a thousand _islands_. We have a thousand _allies_. But you wait and see how many of those allies stick with us when the Nameless One sends out his ships. You wait, Kydin, because it won't take long before they start changing sides."

Kydin considered her words in silence for a long moment. Finally, he shrugged. "I fail to see how that has anything to do with us."

"Kydin, we're _pirates_! Who do you think the Nameless One is gonna fight the seas for? The _dolphins_?"

"Actually my bet was on the organized pirates. Larkin and his lot." Kydin gave a dismissive, off-hand gesture with his paw. "That old otter that calls himself our lord and whatever troops he can call together."

Cyma's breath was a sharp hiss against her teeth. She turned on him, eyes angrier than he could have expected. "You'd _abandon_ us, Kydin? Just like that, you would _leave us to die_?"

Kydin blinked, not sure why she was so enraged. "Well, not _you_. You're on my ship, aye?"

She shook her head, obviously disappointed. "And who do you think is gonna lead the pirates, Kydin? You think Larkin will last another half a season?"

Kydin shrugged uncomfortably. "It'll go to Riya. Right of bloodline, aye?"

"Not to Riya. Her father has already forbidden the ascension. He won't let her rule." Cyma's voice was sharp with contempt.

Kydin hissed in annoyance. "Than Hikin." He announced. "He'll rule."

Cyma froze for several long seconds. "Kydin…" Her voice was filled with something that made Kydin's upper lip draw back in a snarl. "Kydin, you do realize how incredibly not funny that is, don't you?"

"Who says I was jokin'? Hikin's a decent pirate. He'll do alright."

"He's a _murderer_!" Cyma looked about ready to hit something, anything.

Kydin frowned. "Cyma…aren't we all?"

"No, Kydin. There is a _difference_. There is a _line_. We don't cross it. We would _never_ cross it! But he…he doesn't even _see_ it!"

Kydin tilted his head. "Well, he's not the _nicest_ of foxes I'll admit, but-"

"Not the nicest-_Kydin_! Do you not remember what he did to Malrinji?"

Kydin's frown deepened the slightest bit. "It's not the easiest thing to forget." He admitted reluctantly.

"Imagine if there had been no one to stop him. Imagine if we hadn't been able to intervene." Kydin wasn't sure if he was disgusted or alarmed by the fact that Cyma was trembling rather violently. "_Imagine_, Kydin, if our laws _did not_ apply to him."

"So stay off Shray until someone assassinates him. It'll be…what? Five or six seasons?"

"Not if he joins up with the Nameless One. No one would kill him then. None of us _could_." Her glare grew more contemptuous, more personal. "Except, of course, _you_, but you'd be off gallivanting in secret somewhere. Happy as long as they don't dump the dead on _your_ deck, aye?"

Kydin tensed, scowling. "Cyma, the world has never been my responsibil-"

"Then whose _is it_, Kydin?" She was practically shouting now, and the trembling was only getting worse. "_Luke's_?"

"Why not?" Kydin shrugged, turning so that she was facing his shoulder. He stared pointedly at the sea. "He seems to want it."

"_His_ world, Kydin. Not ours. It's different, and you know it! You can't ask him to take up _our_ world. He wouldn't know _how_!"

Kydin rolled his eyes. "Why don't _you_ take it, then?"

"With _what_, Kydin? You think I wouldn't if I could? You think I _like_ to watch what's happening, and know I can do nothing to stop it?" She took in a deep, hissing breath. "You think I _like_ to hate you because you could stop this if you'd just learn to _care_?"

Kydin looked at her. "Hate me, Cyma?" He smiled, but it was bitter. "As if you ever could."

She snorted and shoved him, the dramatic moment shattering to pieces and fading gently away. "Oh, grow up, Kydin. I was trying to make a _point_."

"You were throwing a fit, is what you were doing."

"Yes? Well, it's your fault if I was."

"Is it?" He laughed and looked out at the sea again. "How is that?"

"Because you're so _annoying_. You have the ability to save this, to save all of this, and you…you just _won't_."

Kydin sighed. "Let me try and put this simply so you'll understand. I know you're all _emotional_ right now and-"

Cyma's shove sent him slamming up against the railing. Laughing, he straightened and grinned at the expression on her face.

"Seriously, Cyma, why would I ever take the throne? Even if it was offered, why would I ever give it up?"

"Give _what_ up?"

Kydin threw his arms wide, taking in the starlit sea and the boat and the complete freedom he lived in. "Everything."

She snorted. "Well, well, Kydin, and I thought _I_ had a flair for dramatics."

Kydin winked. "Was it too much? I decided against the single glistening tear, but maybe the arm-waving was too much. I dunno, I'm afraid I'm not as good as you are at judging these things. I had the great misfortune of being born male."

"Oh, shut up." She shoved him against the railing. "As I remember, your father was quite good with dramatics himself."

"He was not." Kydin sounded deeply offended. "He was completely the opposite. Emotionally and dramatically dead, really."

She snorted. "Oh, c'mon, Kydin, that's the most melodramatic thing of _all_."

…

"Kydin, we need food."

Kydin looked up at Vix, studying the expression on the mouse's face. He looked strained, unnecessarily edgy. The prince frowned. "How badly?"

"Not so bad that we need to start rationing ourselves now, but we won't make it much farther."

Kydin's paw tapped out a nervous, agitated rhythm on the desk he sat behind. "I'm afraid I don't understand." His eyes narrowed. "We just left Shray."

"We left Shray months ago."

Kydin shrugged. "We have a small crew. Months usually aren't a problem."

"A small crew with three others we didn't think to account for. With a crew this size, those three've made a difference. Especially Honor."

"How can _that_ one be draining our supplies? He's thinner than _Cyma_."

Vix shrugged. "Probably because he's not eating _enough_. Have you seen what that otter does every day?"

"Eats my food?" Kydin suggested.

"When he's not being beaten by you or Luke, harassed by Aderyn, or stalked by Zai, then, yes, I imagine he does. Or sleeps." Vix shrugged. "I've seem him do both at once."

Kydin blinked. "Aderyn?" He sounded mildly bewildered. "What's _she_ doing bothering him?"

"She's got it into her head that if she can't stop you and Luke beating him, she might as well try to teach him how to look after his _own_ injuries. Apparently, she got tired of them."

"Please try to remember that the mouse and I are not _beating_ the little idiot, we're _training_ him."

"Right." Vix looked incredibly doubtful.

"And he's a slow learner." Kydin scowled. "He didn't _use_ to be so slow."

"That's possibly because you and the mouse teach him completely different styles. I'm surprised he's even managed to _survive_."

Kydin's scowl deepened. "The mouse is teaching him _wrong_?"

"The mouse is teaching him _differently_."

Kydin shook his head, irritated by this more than he was by the fact that they were running out of food. "Tell me next time the mouse tries t'teach him anythin', alright? I don't need him mutating the idiot."

Vix nodded and then hesitated for a second. "And what about the supplies?"

Kydin sighed. "Where's the nearest friendly port?"

"_Friendly_?" Vix seemed a bit taken aback by the word. "Are there any left?"

"Stop whining and tell me."

Vix sighed and paused to think for a moment. "Well, there's Ikrin's port to the south. It's closest."

"No good." Kydin grinned wide and wicked and shook his head. "He and I had a bit of a disagreement last time I was around."

Vix blinked, startled, and then rolled his eyes. "Oh. Right. I remember." He consulted the map in his head. "Then Eaiden Bay, probably."

"No good." Kydin shrugged. "I doubt they've forgiven me about that one monument of theirs."

Vix frowned in confusion for a moment and then a look of clarity and disgust crossed his face. "I still can't believe you did that." He said slowly, his voice full of irritation.

Kydin rolled his eyes. "I was drunk and needed the money, Vix."

"Did you? Well, I hope it was worth it. We'll have to go back to Shray."

Kydin's grin disappeared. "No. We're not going back there. Not until our lord dies, and they declare a new one. I _told_ you when we left."

"I know. I remember. But you've managed to alienate everyone in this part of the _ocean_, Kydin."

"I have not! Lakriss _worships_ me."

"Yes, and it's woefully unfortunate that her neighboring chieftains declared war on her because she kept allowing you to dock at her port."

"Stupid reason to declare war."

"Only when you don't consider the fact that you were constantly going onto their territory and setting fire to the statues of their water god."

"Only because it was _funny_." Kydin waved a paw in agitation. "Honestly, who makes _wooden_ statues of _water gods_? How could they _not_ know there are creatures like _me_ in the world?"

"Blinded by hope, I imagine."

Kydin snorted. "Well, they can't all have been as stupid as Lakriss' neighbors. Find me another place to dock, Vix. Somewhere with food and without a dying lord, will you?"

"There _are_ no other docks, Kydin. It's Shray."

"There _has_ to be another option, Vix. There is _always_ another option."

Vix shrugged. "Starvation." He offered.

Kydin's lip tugged upwards in a snarl. "Funny." He snapped. "Find me another dock, Vix. We're _not_ going to Shray."

…

After much consulting of maps, several violent temper tantrums resulting in an astounding amount of blood loss, and one or two days wasted arguing about who Kydin had merely offended versus who was willing to pay obscene amounts of money for his head, Vix managed to convince Kydin that the only place they could go to restock their dwindling stores of food and water was Shray. Kydin objected persistently, of course, but the mouse had grown up with Kydin. He knew better than the vast majority of the world that, though he would complain violently the entire time, the prince could eventually be convinced to see reason. And, so, eventually, they found themselves staring at the shoreline of Shray from two miles out.

"So…when are we docking?" Cyma was the first to speak up. Possibly because Luke was placed firmly between her and the recently temperamental prince.

Kydin, who was leaning angrily up against the mast, shot her a look that could have frozen fire solid. "We aren't."

Cyma blinked. "Odd. I was under the impression that we came here for more than the view."

Kydin snorted. "The supplies will be delivered by boat." He informed her.

"And they'll just magically know what we want?" Cyma's voice burned with sarcasm.

Kydin shot her a quick, warning look. Then, with a sharp paw gesture, he dismissed her and turned to Vix. "Vix, if you can find a way to Shray without getting noticed, you can visit Livrec. Otherwise, stay onboard." He turned his attention back to the gathered crew. "The rest of you," he snapped, "don't get off the ship. For any reason. Understand?"

Aderyn made a noise of deep discontent. "Kydin, you can't just-"

"I can. I did." Kydin straightened. "Nobody but Vix gets off this boat until I get back. And, if any of you decide to disobey that order, don't bother to get back on the ship." His eyes flashed darkly, menacingly. "I'll find you."

Shrugging off his coat, he stalked over to the railing, hopped easily onto it, and then dived gracefully into the sea.

…

Kydin crawled out of the sea nearly a full hour later. Unwilling to arrive at the calmer parts of the shoreline due to the high probability of being noticed, he had been forced to risk the much more dangerous section of the sea around Shray. And, although an otter, he hadn't been swimming for several months. He was more fatigued than he should have been, and it irritated him more than he wanted to admit.

It took him another half an hour to find a trustworthy ally; Makira, a weasel, had been on Riya's crew once and still held deep loyalties to the she-otter. She treated Kydin with good-hearted annoyance, as the mostly friendly competition between the two otters had long since spilled over into their crews. She agreed to get his supplies and have them rowed out to his vessel in exchange for a mildly obscene amount of money. Then, with a wink and a laugh, she was gone into the streets of Shray that he wasn't willing to walk right now.

Kydin, standing in her small hut on the outskirts of Shray, sat down to wait for her return.

…

"We're leaving."

Luke looked up, surprised. "What?" He demanded.

"I'm showing you Shray." Cyma grinned mischievously, tugging at his paw. "Come on. Vix promised to let us row him to Shray."

"How generous of him." Luke muttered. "I don't want to see your pirate island, Cyma."

"Of _course_ you do, you idiot." She pulled him to his feet. "Besides, just imagine how angry it'll make Kydin."

Luke frowned. "Probably angry enough to leave me on Shray." He said. "And as much fun as _that _promises to be-"

"He won't leave you." Cyma rolled her eyes. "He probably won't even figure it out. We'll be back before he is."

Luke didn't move. "Cyma…"

"C'mon, Luke. I _promise_, alright?"

…

Vix stared at the blood on the floor. Then, slowly, his eyes moved over the remnants of Hasia. The tropical heat and bugs had not been kind to her body, and it had been hard, at first, to recognize her. But he had known, all along, who she was. He had known, but he had refused to accept it.

"Well, you're back sooner than expected."

Vix listened to the words spoken softly from the doorway behind him. He listened to them and analyzed them. It was Hikin's voice. The fox, Vix knew, who had done this. Who had killed Hasia. The fox who would not live through what Vix planned to do to him.

With a roar, the mouse whirled and lunged.

He killed seven of Hikin's creatures before they got him down pinned him there with their weight. Vix struggled futilely for several long minutes, unable to accept that he could be contained, that he could be _stopped_. But, eventually, he ran out of breath and adrenaline, and lay panting on the floor stained with the Hasia's blood.

Hikin gave his fallen minions disgusted looks before his eyes snapped to Vix. "Quite a tantrum." He mocked as he stepped through the doorway. "I hadn't expected such fury so quickly. After all, you haven't even been informed that I've had your son locked in a box, sobbing his pathetic little eyes out, for nearly two months now."

Vix felt the roar ripping his throat apart, but it didn't compare at all to the rage inside him. He struggled, writhing and squirming and biting, but it did no good.

Hikin frowned, apparently taken aback. "Calm down." He suggested. "I feed him every week or so."  
"You _bastard_!" Vix's voice was harsh and rough, low and growling. "Kydin will _skin_ you for this!"

"Kydin?" Hikin blinked. "Why Kydin and not you?" He made a face of sudden comprehension. "Oh, _I_ understand. You think I'm going to kill you?" He laughed. "Now, Vix, why would I waste such a wonderful business opportunity?"

And then Vix realized what was really going on here. His mind stumbled upon the realization of what he was going to be asked to do, and something inside him shattered apart. His eyes closed, and he went limp, falling back against the gory floor. "No." A soft, pointless denial. "I won't."

"You haven't even heard what I'm asking you to do." Hikin chided him gently, shaking his head and crouching down to slap Vix's face in mild reprimand. "It's bad etiquette, you know, not even to hear me out."

Vix didn't open his eyes. The world was killing him well enough, he figured, without having to look it in the face.

"Ah, good, you've decided to listen." Hikin's voice was colored heavily with a smirk. "The offer is quite simple. You get Kydin to sail away from these shores to an island far away, and I give you your son back."

Vix's eyes opened hesitantly in surprise. "What?"

Hikin smiled. "Did you think I was going to ask you to kill Kydin?" He laughed. "Why ever would I want you to do that? Imagine how it would look if Kydin were to die so conspicuously so close to the king's death. Oh, no, little mouse, I have no wish at all to start a civil war."

Vix stared up at him in completely incomprehension. "You don't want me to kill Kydin?" He repeated dumbly.

Hikin snorted. "I could kill Kydin well enough by myself. What do you think _he_ could do that you couldn't? If I can pin you with a quarter of my creatures, what makes you think I couldn't kill Kydin with half of them?"

"You caught me off guard." Vix pointed out. He swallowed. "And distracted."

"And unarmed." Hikin agreed. "I loved how you dropped your sword so dramatically when you saw her body." He grinned. "You belong in some longwinded love story, Vix."

"I _will_ kill you for this." Vix informed him.

"Ah, yes, you will try. But not until I've given you your precious pseudo-son back." Hikin smiled down at the mouse barely a foot away. "And you had better do exactly what I tell you to do. After all, you wouldn't want Livrec to come back missing a limb or two, would you?"

Vix snarled viciously, but he stayed silent. Minutes passed in tense quiet until, finally, letting his head fall back against the floor and breaking eye contact with the fox, Vix spoke again. "What do you want me to do?"

…

Makira did not come back. Hours passed, and she did not return. Kydin waited in growing annoyance. He couldn't risk trying to find someone else. Not in the middle of the night, when Shray was at its busiest. He would have to wait for dawn or for Makira, whichever came first.

"Your patience has always been impressive."

Kydin jumped at the unexpected voice, leaping to his feet and drawing his knives.

"And your reflexes…well, they're not as good as the king's were, but whose are?"

"Come out, Ceran." Kydin's eyes flickered around the room. "It's never a good idea to make me jumpy."

"No, indeed. As I remember, you tend to lose fights that way."

Kydin snarled. "I was under the impression I lost that fight because you got me drunk."

"I did not get you drunk, Kydin."

"Then who was it pourin' drinks?"

There was the sound of a soft, irritated sigh. Then a fox dropped out of the rafters, landing gracefully halfway across the room. He tilted his head, eyes full of quiet condescension. "Kydin, you lost that fight because you couldn't control yourself."

"Oh, aye?" Kydin's eyes narrowed. "Well, I'm a bit more sober now, wanna go again?"

Ceran snorted. "Kydin, with knives?" He brushed the hilt of his sword idly. "I would gut you before you could break the skin."

"Longer reach." Kydin's voice was heavy with disgust. "You have any knives?"

"No."

"Well, why not?"

"Because I can only beat you with a sword."

Kydin relaxed a bit, slightly soothed by the compliment. "What d'you want?"

"I _want_ to speak with the son of a dearly missed friend." Ceran's smile faded. "But, unfortunately, we all have our unpleasant duties. What I want has very little to do with my current task."

Kydin's relaxation disappeared in an instant. "You arrestin' me?" He hissed.

"Hardly." Ceran rolled his eyes. "If I were here to arrest you, you would not longer be awake. I am here to escort you to our lord's castle."

"Oh, '_escort_?' An' what happens if I don't wanna go?"

Ceran's smile was thin. "Then I arrest you."

Kydin took a quick step back. "You're gettin' older, Ceran. Think you could catch me if I ran?"

Ceran shook his head. "I highly doubt it. But the rest of the Guards stationed around this building would probably have a fairer chance."

Kydin cursed, tightening his grip on his knives. "C'mon, Ceran. Lemme loose, aye?"

Ceran sighed. "Kydin, you know I can't. Make this easy, or at least bloodless. Just come with us."

Kydin considered it. For a moment, he really did. Ceran was an old friend of his father's, the only known creature to have bested his father with the sword and lived long enough to boast about it. The fox had, originally, been second in command on the king's boat and had taken up the position of Captain of the Guard under the impression that the king would soon take over as their lord. When the king had been killed, Ceran had been stuck in an occupation that, while it fitted his skills remarkably well, brought him little entertainment and even less satisfaction.

If anyone living had authority over Kydin, it would be Ceran. After all, the fox had been the unofficial guardian of Vix, Riya, Cyma, and Kydin when they were younger, and he had never quite relinquished his duties. If Kydin owed anyone obedience, it would be the fox.

So Kydin considered going quietly with the fox for nearly a full minute, which is far more than he ever would have done for the vast majority of the world's population.

But, when his forty-five seconds of introspection had passed, he still lunged at the fox with his knives' out, going for the throat. Because, sometimes, he didn't have the strength to fight his nature.

…

"I told you to bring him to me unharmed."

"And as I pointed out previously, my lord, bringing Kydin anywhere against his will is impossible enough without you imposing ridiculous restrictions."

Larkin looked up at Ceran sharply. The fox stared back at him in blatant frustration. Larkin should have known better than to send Ceran out for Kydin. The two were far too close. But, then again, no one else on this island could have brought the prince here without significant loss of life.

"Was anyone killed?"

"Makin lost an ear, sir." Ceran's face shifted into one of disgust. "Kydin woke up on the way back, took offense to the crowd that had gathered, and decided to make some sort of point. He had his teeth around Makin's ear before I realized what he planned to do."

Larkin shook his head. Kydin, while admirable in almost every other aspect, had vicious vulnerabilities in his pride and his freedom. The otter could not stand a threat to either, and especially could not tolerate an insult to both. "You should have known to watch for him."

"I had thought that, given the severity of the head wound, he would not feel particularly prone to astounding feats of gymnastic prowess. Forgive me my misconception when it comes to the prince's masochism." Ceran shot back, apparently a bit testy.

"I see he got your face rather well."

Ceran's paw traced the slash along his right cheekbone in irritation. "Yes." He admitted. "The idiot leaped at right at me. I could either skewer him or allow him the attack. Given the two of us, I thought you would find him more valuable."

"You're in quite a mood, Ceran." Larkin noted with some amusement.

"And you should know why." Ceran retorted. "Of all the creatures in the world to send me after, Larkin, you _would_ chose the only one besides yourself I have promised to protect."

"Oh, please, the cub wasn't hurt."

Ceran made a noise at the back of his throat that suggested some deep grievance with this statement. He gestured at his blood-coated shirt. "Blood was pouring from his head like a damned _fountain_, Larkin!"

Larkin's eyes narrowed. "I understand you're upset, Ceran, but please try to remember who I am."

Ceran's eyes sparked, and Larkin could practically hear the enraged accusations and condemnations turning to bitter ash in the back of the fox's throat. It had taken him nearly five seasons to train the impudence out of the fox, and, with every season that passed, Larkin found he missed it more. Without the king, it was hard to find those who would speak to him without being overly worried by the punishment they would receive in retribution.

"Go brood in a dark corner somewhere." Larkin suggested dismissively. "And have them slap the prince awake and bring him to me."

"He's not ready-"

"_Ceran_!"

The fox's eyes narrowed, and he seemed to tremble for a moment. Then, with a sharp agitated jerk, he turned his back and stalked off. His red tail thrashed like a snake in its death throes, and Larkin watched him go, torn between smugness and sorrow.

…

Kydin very nearly bit the paw off the stoat that dared to slap him awake. At the very least, he bit to the bone, and the stoat fled the room screaming. The prince, who was becoming far too accustomed to the taste of blood even for his _own_ liking, spat the mouthful into the squirrel's face. She looked at him in undisguised contempt, punched him in the temple, and took advantage of his brief disorientation to shove him forcefully into the throne room.

Kydin hit the floor, skidded uncontrollably on the slick surface, and came up bloody and confused. His eyes snapped around in uncertainty, took in the ten Guards in uniform with crossbows and decided he was having an incredibly bad night.

"Tell me, Kydin, why can't you ever just do as you're told?"

Kydin's eyes narrowed briefly and then slithered grudgingly over to his lord. He let his anger and resentment show for just an instant longer, and then shuttered them away behind a mask of casual indifference. "Now, honestly, my lord, I had no idea you wanted to speak with me."

"Is that why you anchored nearly a mile off shore?"

"Well, I'm sure it helped. Since I chose to swim ashore rather than dock, there were no Dock Guards to inform me that you wanted a chat."

"You know, Kydin, it _is_ required for all who dock here to meet with me whenever they buy or sell anything on this island." Larkin's eyes sent a mild warning. "I have allowed you to ignore this rule for three seasons because I am a kindly ruler, and because I was a great admirer of your father. I have _also_ forgiven the vast majority of your other more bloody offenses out of the graciousness of my heart. So you can imagine why I might be a bit…upset with you when you disrespect me by ignoring my summons."

"Not _ignoring_." Kydin said. "Being _ignorant_ of."

"And so when Ceran found you…what happened? You attacked him on principal?"

"A fox jumpin' at you out of the darkness is not the most reassuring of sights. Naturally, I punched him. It all really started when he hit be back."

"Of course it did." Larkin sighed heavily. "Kydin, I have heard more creative excuses from _cubs_!"

"Yes, well, was it me?" Kydin inquired. "Me an' Riya?"

"Well, it would have to be, wouldn't it? After all, no one else is quite as insane as the pair of you."

"Which, by the way, I've been meanin' to ask you about." Kydin straightened. "Why aren't you lettin' Riya take over Shray?"

Larkin scowled. "You know, Kydin, most creatures at least observe the formalities before impudently questioning my judgment."

"Formalities?" Kydin seemed confused for a second, then he scowled in outright dislike. He studied his lord in bitter contemplation for several long minutes. Then, noting the way Larkin's paw was slowly gesturing at the Guards to lower their crossbows and pick up their staves, Kydin decided it was time he played the puppet. After all, there were only so many lines you could cross before it caught up with you.

But, damn, he hated this part.

…

Watching Kydin kneel was about as entertaining as watching a fish die, Larkin noted. Not the small weak fish that simply lay there gasping, but the ones that flopped around desperately until their throes became twitches, then tremors, then, finally, they stopped moving at all.

The prince would stand completely still for what felt like an eternity, as his pride battled his common sense. He always stood with his head tilted just slightly to the side, listening intently to his own internal conflict. Then, slowly, his eyes would slide over to Larkin with barely disguised disgust. Kydin would consider the aged otter in front of him, wonder at the fact that _he_ had to bow to this decrepit ruin from a previous age, wonder at the power the weak and weary had over the young and violent. Then his eyes would roll in aggravation, and his knees would bend the slightest bit. After that, everything went rather smoothly. Except that, always, at the very last instant when his knees were almost to the ground, Kydin would freeze. How he did it, Larkin had no idea. Gravity deemed it impossible, but the prince did it. Every time. He froze for a second at an impossible angle, stared at the ground in front of him, and then his knees hit the ground. He ducked his head for the required amount of seconds, and then shot up as if the flooring burned.

This time, however, Kydin did not stand.

Larkin frowned. "Examining the floor?"

Kydin didn't look up at him. Didn't respond.

"Kydin, what're you playing at?"

"I," Kydin said tonelessly, "am playing the mindless well-behaved little pirate."

"Kydin…" Larkin scowled in anger. As much as he craved rebellion, he could not _stand_ deliberate insolence.

The set of Kydin's shoulders shrieked of sarcastic submission. "Yes, my lord?"

"Much as I loved your father, I will not hesitate to have you killed."

"Not hesitate?"

"Not for a second."

Kydin paused. "One…" He counted.

"_Kydin_!" Larkin shook his head, forcing himself to calm down. This idiot was going to be the death of him. "Stand up."

Kydin leapt to his feet. His face was completely blank, but the laughter in his eyes was obvious.

"Kydin, sometimes I find your lack of maturity incredibly disheartening. It's good that your father died before he could see the embarrassment you've made of his name."

The laughter in the prince's eyes exploded, shattering into a rage Larkin had not expected. Kydin's face twisted, melted, _mutated_. The prince was beyond angry; he was insane.

And it was while Kydin raced across the throne room, knives out, that Larkin realized what a horrible idea it was to attack all of Kydin's weaknesses in such quick succession.

…

Kydin froze instinctively at the cool touch of metal. It pressed against his stomach, slicing gently through his shirt and skin. He stopped himself just before he ran himself through. His eyes snapped up, seeking out this enemy, and he hissed in surprise. "Ceran."

"You little idiot." Ceran sounded oddly affectionate. "Will you _never_ learn to control yourself?"

Kydin blinked, shook his head, and suddenly comprehended what he had been about to do. He swallowed and stepped away, looking more mildly disturbed than anything else.

The Guards stood with their crossbows aimed directly at Kydin, unsure of what to do. Larkin seemed to be having some difficulty breathing. But Ceran seemed perfectly calm. In fact, he seemed as if he had been expecting this all along.

"Didn't I order you to brood in a corner somewhere?" Larkin asked Ceran tiredly.

"Lucky I picked a corner in this room." Ceran replied. "Or the both of you would be dead."

Larkin sat quietly for a very long time. "Thank you, Ceran." He said finally.

Ceran snorted. "I didn't do it for you."

Larkin straightened and turned his gaze on Ceran. For the first time in nearly two full seasons, Ceran returned it in apathetic challenge. The fox was truly ready to fight him over this. Ready to fight him and all his Guards.

Larkin sighed. "I suppose the mention of the king was in ill-taste."

"Yes." Ceran agreed grimly. "It was."

Larkin's gaze moved to Kydin, who was eyeing the fox uneasily. Larkin noticed the blood leaking slowly from the cut on the other otter's stomach and wondered if Kydin even remembered that it was there. "And I suppose I should apologize."

"I believe it would be for the best." The fox's voice was dry, but at least not openly antagonistic.

"How about a trade?" Kydin asked suddenly.

"Kydin." Ceran didn't approve.

"What do you want?" Larkin did.

"I want to set sail. I want supplies for my ship, and I want to leave as soon as possible." Kydin was smiling again, which meant was willing to sell his forgiveness. But the warmth did not reach his eyes. In fact, Larkin doubted he'd ever seen them so coldly calculating before. "You can keep your pride, and I'll take your food."

"Kydin, you shouldn't-"

"Ceran, words can't feed my crew."

"I wanted to talk to you about succession." Larkin objected.

"And that's exactly what I wanted to avoid." Kydin nodded slowly. "So, there we go. It's a fair trade after all. We're both not getting what we want."

"I thought you wanted supplies. I _am_ giving you those."

"That's nice." Kydin admitted. "But what I _wanted_ was to cut your tongue out."

"Kydin, you do realize that this lack of tact is the reason half of the ocean wants you dead?" Ceran seemed torn between amused disapproval and frustrated affection.

"It's also the reason the other half loves me, mate. At least this way I make the right type of friends." Kydin shrugged, stepping back. "My lord." He bowed quickly and mockingly and was gone before Larkin had decided how to object.

…

"C'mon Bevin, gimmie two more."

"You've already had six." The large stoat glared good-naturedly across the bar at Cyma. "I told you last time, you pay after the fist half dozen."

"But think of what I've done for you! _Think_, Bevin."

The stoat grinned. "Cyma, you're drunk. Go back to your ship, aye?"

"Not a good idea." Luke said as he sagged gracelessly against the bar.

Bevin sized up the mouse casually. "Oh?" He asked. "And why not?"

Cyma laughed. "Cuz Kydin's gonna kill us. Or kick us off his ship and make us swim back here drunk. One or the other, though they're probably the same anyway."

Bevin nodded slowly. "Well, in that case, you two had better get out of here now. I don't need t'give that otter any reason to dislike me."

"He's not as violent as he used to be." Cyma objected. "He's matured a bit."

"Not as _brutal_, Cyma. Far more cruel." Brevin corrected. "And I'm too sober to say I could survive his anger."

"Oh, like he'd go after _you_." Cyma argued. "It'd be my fault. He'd kill me."

"No." Brevin shook his head, grinning wryly. "Kydin actually likes you. He'd need someone else to blame. Who d'you think is gonna play the scapegoat?"

Luke lifted a paw blearily. "Oh, I've got that one. Don't worry about it."

Brevin frowned across the bar at him, and then shot Cyma a quizzical look. "Cyma?" He asked.

"What?" Cyma asked and then glanced uneasily between Luke and Brevin like a guilty cub. "Well, I mean, I don't _think_ Kydin will be too mad. Honestly, I think everyone exaggerates when they talk about his temper."

"That's because _you've_ never had to face it." Brevin wasn't smiling anymore. "Get out of here, Cyma. Get back onboard before Kydin does."

"But, Brevin, I…" She trailed off, seeing the look on his face. Finally, she rolled her eyes, grabbed Luke by the bicep, and took off in a dizzy, zigzagging line.

…

"Now, look, Kydin, I know we're a bit late gettin' back." Cyma said as she stepped onto the deck of the ship. "And I know, maybe, you might be a bit upset about it, but-"

Kydin, who had been leaning casually against the mast up, started stalking slowly across the deck. He didn't say anything; he didn't have to.

Cyma took a cautious step back. "Kydin?" She asked. "Kydin?"

He shoved her aside distractedly, and she stumbled. By the time she had regained her footing, Kydin had already pinned Luke up against the railing and was pulling a blood-splattered paw back to punch him again.

"_Kydin_!" Cyma shrieked. "_Stop it_!"

The prince ignored her, and Luke's neck snapped around violently as Kydin's fist collided solidly with his chin. The mouse sagged and seemed to slip into a momentarily faint. But Kydin didn't stop.

When Luke hit the ground, Kydin merely started kicking him, mercilessly, in the ribs.

"_Kydin_!" Cyma's voice was high and terrified and hurt her head. She had never seen him go so completely crazy over something so pathetic.

A door clattered open and, suddenly, Honor was sprinting into her field of vision. The smaller otter rammed into Kydin without even bothering to slow down, and the two of them flew briefly before slamming into the deck. Kydin didn't pause to see who had attacked him; he merely roared and sank his demonically sharp teeth deep into Honor's arm.

Honor mewled at the pain but still managed to club Kydin over the head with his free arm.

Kydin's elbow snapped into Honor's temple, and the otter's cry of pain was cut off almost immediately. His eyes flickered closed, and he collapsed back against the deck.

When Kydin stood, he looked fully prepared to go after Luke again. The mouse had just come to and was using the railing to pry himself up. Luke looked up, tired and bloody and more than a little drunk.

Cyma sidestepped between Kydin and Luke. "Kydin." She said, her voice harsh and forbidding. "Kydin, stop this. Stop it _now_."

Kydin ignored her, striding ominously towards the disoriented warrior. He was just about to push Cyma out of his way again when, without warning, she slapped him. Kydin's head jerked just slightly to the left, and he looked back at her with a snarl pulling at his lips.

Her eyes blazed scornful fury, and she spat in his face.

And then, wordless and angry, she turned her back on him and stalked off to Luke, who had finally managed to stand. She looped an arm around him and helped him limp off the deck.

Kydin stared after her, twitching strangely as he fought against rampaging emotions. Finally, he reached up and wiped the spit off his face with his sleeve. And then, because sometimes there was nothing else to be done, he went off to apologize.

…

"Aw, c'mon, Cyma, open the door."

"No."

Kydin sighed and stared at the door in belligerent annoyance. "I can kick this door down, Cyma."

"Go ahead." She challenged. "See what it gets you."

Kydin fumed. "Did you booby-trap my door, Cyma?"

"I believe it's _my_ door."

"_My_ ship." He pointed out darkly.

"Well, it's _my damn door_! Now get away from it!"

"What do you want, Cyma? I already apologized."

"You did not! You _insulted_ me!"

"Well, I can't help the fact that you associate yourself with _idiots_, Cyma!"

"The only _idiot_ I associate myself with, Kydin, is _you_!"

Kydin snarled and slammed his paw against the door angrily. "Cyma, open this door! _Now_!"

"No." She sounded perfectly serene about that, too. Mocking him, openly and without fear.

"Open it!" Kydin snapped. Silence.

"Cyma?"

No answer.

"Open this door!"

Nothing.

He waited. For nearly half an hour, he waited. Then, finally, he decided to change tactics. "Cyma…Cyma, c'mon, answer me."

There was a pause. Then a faint sound, a cross between a sigh and a hiss. "What do you _want_, Kydin?"

Kydin was a little taken aback at the open hostility in her tone. He fought with Riya and Vix, never with Cyma. Not like this. "C'mon, Cyma." He coaxed. "You know you love me."

Another noise, someone coming to the door. And then, suddenly and rather inexplicably, the door swung open, and Kydin wasn't quite sure why he felt like such a bastard when he noticed the tear tracks down her face. "Of _course _I know, you damned idiot." She snapped at him. "So why don't you?"

Kydin blinked. "Excuse me?"

It was one of the five times he had ever used that phrase in his life. He saved it for emergencies.

She rolled her eyes at him, exasperate. "Do you know what I hate about you, Kydin? Do you know what I absolutely _loathe_ about you?"

Kydin was momentarily stunned. "My roughish good looks?"

"I hate the fact that you don't _care_. At _all_. About _anything_." She took a breath, changed her mind. "Except this boat and the sea and your damned _freedom_, like you _have_ any. And I hate how you have to go to all this trouble to prove that you're not a hero, that you're not going to _save_ anyone, just because you know you _want_ to. I _hate_ what you do to yourself, Kydin. And I hate how _I_ have to be the one that cares _for_ you."

"Cyma." Kydin's tone was soothing, albeit a little perplexed. "Cyma, you're drunk and emotional and not making much sense. Why don't you just get some sleep, and I'll come by in the morning with-"

"_Damn_ you!" The words burst from her like an arrow from a bow, quick and sharp and angry. They stabbed deep, if only because of the dizzying array of emotions she hurled with them.

"Cyma-"

"I _hate_ you!" She screamed, raging because that was what pirates did, and she couldn't fight what she was. "I _hate_ you!"

Kydin was dumbfounded. No one in their right mind yelled at him like that. No one in their right mind yelled at _anyone_ like that. Cyma was absolutely out of her head. He had no idea what to do, and he didn't like the feeling.

"Why won't you just _help us_, Kydin? Why do you have to be so damn independent? Don't you see what's going to happen? You're not _stupid_, Kydin! You _know_ what'll happen to us. Because we're not all like you, Kydin. We can't all just sit back and watch that damned ferret kill our world." She fell back against the doorframe. She wasn't crying, but she sounded like she'd very much like to. "Why won't you _save_ us, Kydin? Why aren't we good enough for you?"

"Cyma, you're hysterical."

It was, apparently, the wrong thing to say.

She slammed the door in his face and refused to open it, no matter what he said, no matter what he promised. Finally, when the sun was beginning to rise above the horizon, he turned away from her door and wandered to his own room. He stared at the new hammock he'd bought at Shray to make up for the own that Luke had ruined, but he didn't have the energy to put it up. He sighed and stumbled over to the makeshift nest of pillows and blankets he'd made for himself, kicked at it resentfully once or twice, and then gave in and fell into it.

He wondered, as his brain started to drift away from consciousness, when, exactly, the world had gone mad.


	8. Chapter Eight

((Erm…warnings for this chapter: Hikin. He's psycho. He's a sadist who likes to make others cry. Also, there's a bit of bad language and, as always, a dash of violence. Oh, and Vix throws a fit and tortures someone to death. Other than that, it's all good clean fun. Enjoy.))

…

Cyma found Vix hiding in the darkest corner of the lowest deck. He was asleep, curled up in the darkness with a bloody knife in his hand and blood all over his clothes. To his left, she saw the bloody mess of what had once been a weasel. She winced as she realized that Vix was sleeping peacefully in the blood and gore of the poor bastard who'd managed to send him into a rage.

She'd always found it ironic that everyone was so afraid if Kydin, so afraid of his cruelty and laughter…they never realized that Vix, quiet, loyal little Vix, could be far far worse when the mood struck him. The only true difference between Kydin and Vix was that Kydin was mildly cruel nonstop; Vix was relatively reasonable until something shoved him over the brink, then he lost all sense of right and wrong and went into a psychotic rage.

"Vix." She said, softly because the last thing she wanted to do was scare him. Vix got twitchy when people startled him.

But he didn't respond. Didn't even flinch.

_Oh, **damn**_. Cyma moved quickly across the room, dodging small boxes and scrambling across the larger ones. Finally, she reached him. "Vix." She repeated.

He took in a deep hissing breath, but he didn't answer her.

She grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him up, leaning him against the wall. His eyes rolled wildly before reluctantly settling on her face. Then he glanced over at the horrible mess he'd made of the weasel and turned decidedly green. Cyma scurried out of the way just fast enough to avoid Vix's inevitable reaction to killing. _He was never meant to be a killer_. Cyma thought sadly. _He's the king's only mistake._

"Cyma." His voice was hollow, completely bereft of all emotion. And she knew, because she remembered, that this was his way of showing that there was some monster in his belly, devouring his heart. "Cyma, help me stand."

She did. Of course, she did. But it took almost all her strength. Vix couldn't seem to remember how to use his legs. In the end, she ended up half-dragging him out of the nightmarish scene he'd lulled himself to sleep with.

It was night outside and that was probably for the best. Vix took one look at the outside world, took in the stars and the sky and threw up again. Only, this time, he didn't have anything left. Nothing but stomach acid, but he surrendered it willingly. Then he rolled weakly to the side and stared up at the moon as if it had personally betrayed him, and he didn't understand why the world was slowly devouring his soul.

"Vix." She said, because she knew, in the end, that Vix would have to talk about it. Never the way he wanted to, never spilling all his secrets in a panicked rush to try and justify them, to try and be forgiven for them. No, he couldn't. He'd been trained not to. He merely alluded, merely hinted, and even then Cyma could read the guilt and self-loathing in his eyes. Vix was never like Kydin; he knew understood how to be.

"Cyma, I think, maybe, I crossed the line."

"You did cut every square inch of skin off a weasel." She pointed out quietly.

Vix winced. Apparently, he wasn't even thinking of that. He cursed under his breath and closed his eyes. "Cyma," he started again, "I think, maybe, I crossed several lines."

She sighed, leaning up against the railing and staring up at the stars bitterly. She was surprised by the rage within her, by the complete and total hatred of fate and the way it played with its toys. And, even, a little hatred for the king. Because, in the end, it was his fault that they were all thrown together like this, all of them mutated into little killers before they could grasp what they were doing. And it had started to hit Vix harder and harder since Livrec was born. Because, suddenly, he had to look in the eyes of all his victims and realize that he was killing someone's child.

"What're you gonna do, Vix?" She asked, not looking at him. "What're you gonna do when the Nameless One declares war, and Kydin runs?"

Vix shrugged. "I used to know." He said slowly. "I used to know I'd run with him."

"What happened?" She asked. "When did we grow a conscience?"

He snorted and smiled softly, mockingly. "When the world forced it down our throats."

"Fine. Then, that's it. Why do we have to care about a world that never gave a damn about us?"

Vix sighed. "If I knew, I'd stop it. I never asked to be like this."

"Never wanted compassion?" She laughed darkly. "Me either." But she knew it hurt Vix more. Because he still couldn't take a life without sacrificing his stomach. "Vix, why do you kill? You hate it, I know you do. Why do you do it?"

"Because." He shrugged. "Because this is what I was taught to do, and I don't know how to do anything else. I kill, Cyma. I'm an assassin. Does it matter if I hate it?"

"It should."

He laughed. "Should? Yes. But the world never played by those rules. At least…not with us."

Cyma's eyes narrowed. "Does it play fair with _anyone_?"

"Of course it does. Your hero friend? He'll die nobly, or he'll die old and comfortable and surrounded by friends. Maybe he'll die in battle, maybe he'll die in pain. But he picked up a sword, Cyma. He chose that. The Nameless One…well, he took up the blade as well. He'll die in pain or riches. One or the other, either of which is fitting, is _fair_. But not us, Cyma. Never us. Do you know why?"

She shook her head. "No." She admitted. "I've never known."

He laughed. "Because, Cyma. This world was created for good and evil. For the heroes and the tyrants. Everything…_everyone_ revolves around them. They are…everything. But this sick little play needs supporting characters, does it not? It needs soldiers to die, innocents to burn…pirates to hang. We play our roles, Cyma, but we never asked for them. We were never meant to matter, we were never supposed to change the world. So what does it matter if we're unhappy? What does our discontent and hatred and disappointment mean? We won't save the word, and we would never damn it. We support it, and no one ever asked a wall how it felt."

Cyma bit her lip and stared accusingly up at the stars. "I hate it." She said slowly, carefully. She couldn't cry in front of Vix. Kydin could ignore it, but it would destroy Vix. He'd always been too damn sensitive to the suffering of those around him. He'd always cared just a little too much. Kydin, the blind bastard, had never noticed the empathy that lurked beneath Vix's stoic exterior. But Cyma had always known. After all, they were a lot alike, she and Vix. "I hate this world and everything and everyone and…and…"

"You don't hate it." He laughed at her, actually _laughed_. "Gods, Cyma, if we hated it, everything would be so much easier."

"Oh, and you don't hate it?" She accused. "Then why did you torture that weasel, Vix? What for, if not for hatred?"

"For childish ideologies, Cyma. For vengeance and frustration." He shrugged. "For betrayal."

"What happened on Shray, Vix?" She asked. "What aren't you telling Kydin?"

Vix's eyes closed briefly. He stood up slowly, shaking slightly. He straightened and peered up at the moon. "It's a damned life, Cyma." He said finally, something tragically apathetic about his voice. "But it's the only one we have."

…

"Riya sent it to us." Vix said, pushing the map across the desk. "She left it in Hasia's care."

Kydin glanced at it. "Treasure?" He asked. "Why wouldn't Riya go after that herself?"

"Because she's busy." Vix shrugged. "After all, she has to be around when our lord dies. Otherwise, she'll lose everything. Even her ship is legally his. If someone ill-favored towards her assumes the throne, she could be deprived of vessel, riches, and power. She would be just another pirate."

Kydin winced. Obviously, the idea of Riya without ship or money disturbed him. "So, she's sending us on a quest?"

"She buried a great deal of the riches she scavenged from Najikan's shipwreck on that island. Apparently, she plans to wait until Hikin takes everything away from her, and then take her treasures back from you. After Hikin's claimed all her belongings, anything you give to her would be a gift, not something she ever owned. As long as it's in your possession when she's stripped of her power and possessions, it would go to you."

Kydin blinked. "So, technically, I wouldn't have to give any of it to her."

Vix nodded. "I believe she's trusting your common sense to overpower your greed."

"Not a smart gamble." Kydin noted. "It's never won before."

Vix was silent.

Kydin frowned at him. "And what's wrong with you? You've been downright moody ever since we left Shray." A slow, lazy smile spread over Kydin's face. "Is Hasia going to have yet another cub?"

Vix winced as if he'd been hit.

Kydin's face mutated into a snarl. "She's done it again, hasn't she?" Kydin absolutely hated that mouse. She had _ruined_ Vix's killing edge when she shoved that child at him, and now, _now_, she was doing it again.

"No." Vix shook his head slowly. "No, she hasn't."

"Then what's happened? Vix, you're acting like an idiot."

Vix stared at Kydin and, for a moment, Kydin could have sworn he saw a dark carousel of emotion go reeling in Vix's eyes. For a moment, he saw desperation and depression, isolation and horror. But, then it was gone, and Vix was as emotional as a pebble. "I've grown tried, Kydin. After this, I will need several weeks of vacation."

"_Weeks_?" Kydin demanded, shocked. Vix had never asked for more than a day before. To ask for _weeks_…

"Perhaps months. Maybe seasons." Vix said quietly, distantly. He looked intensely unfocused, as if he was watching some horrible tragedy play out behind his eyes. "Kydin…"

"What?" Kydin demanded, not quite sure what to make of the mouse's actions.

"I think it only fair to warn you that I may never go back out to sea, after this." Vix's tone was cold, emotionless. "You may have to find someone else to be your first mate."

Kydin's eyes narrowed. "What's happened, Vix?"

Vix's eyes moved slowly over to Kydin. "Like I said, Kydin. I've grown tired."

"You aren't plannin' on gettin' yourself involved with the inevitable rebellion on Shray, are you?"

Vix shook his head, smiled. "No." He said. "I'm not."

"Then what are you going to _do_?"

Vix stared into the distance. "I've been thinking," he said, "of taking up whittling."

Kydin scowled at him. "Vix, don't try to be funny, this is _serio-_"

"Serious?" Vix asked, and, suddenly, he was completely focused on Kydin. He smiled, a cold, distant grimace of amusement. "Not at all, when compared to the rest of the world."

"Has Cyma been talking to you? Is she poisoning the lot of you against me?"

"She doesn't have to." Vix said blandly. "You're accomplishing that all on your own."

…

"It's been called to my attention that morale might be dropping a little low as of late."

The crew shot wary glances amongst themselves. Finally, uneasily, they looked back at their pacing captain. None of them were quite sure what to make of Kydin in his current state, but the majority agreed that it wasn't good.

"Well, _that's_ awfully hard to believe." Cyma muttered from where she sulked against the railing. "Considering your charming nature and the vast extent of our shore leave."

"You're not actually part of the crew, Cyma." Kydin pointed out dryly. "And I don't remember inviting you here."

"That's quite alright, Kydin. I forgive the oversight." She replied archly. "Now, please, continue."

Kydin scowled at her, and, for a moment, he seemed fully prepared to attack. Then he frowned as if confused and stopped pacing. The crew's eyes darted between the pair of them, and Luke let out a mocking chuckle through lips that were split and bloody.

"Anyway, as I was saying, morale is low." Kydin was pacing again, obviously tense and irritated. "So, we're going to…" He trailed off, coming to a sudden stop.

"Going to?" Cyma repeated with an all-knowing smirk on her face.

Kydin scowled and stalked over, grabbing her arm. "I need to speak with you."

"Oh, dear." She mused as he dragged her off the deck. "I _do_ hope I haven't offended you. Your fragile sensibilities as _so_ easily flustered. I-" Her voice was cut off sharply as a door slammed.

Silence reigned briefly on deck. "Cyma's gone mad." Ladin breathed softly. "Completely, utterly _mad_."

…

Riya docked and was immediately escorted off her ship by a company of Guards. They led her, silently, to a backroom of one of the more popular bars at Shray, where she found Ceran half-drunk and decidedly unhappy. She frowned at him, watching as he ordered the other Guards away with a flick of his wrist. His eyes fell back towards the mug in front of him, but he seemed to lack the energy to pick it up.

"What's this about, Ceran?" Riya demanded as she took the seat across from him. "Why did you drag me here?"

The fox sighed. "Your father…" He said softly. "Your father is not well."

Riya straightened. "Is he dead?"

"No." Ceran sounded, if anything, slightly disappointed. "But he will be. Soon. For awhile he seemed to be doing better, could even walk around on his own. But whatever the healers have been giving him stopped working 'bout two days ago. Seems the scare Kydin put into him strained his heart just a bit too much."

"Kydin?" Riya demanded, leaning forward. "Kydin was here?"

"Aye. Here and gone." He shrugged. "The prince didn't even stay long enough for me to tell him about Hasia."

"You didn't _tell_ him?" Riya hissed. "You _idiot_!"

Ceran's eyes darted up to her face. "I was more concerned with keeping the prince _alive_. He still hasn't learned to keep his mouth shut."

She snarled and pounded a fit angrily against the table. "You should've _told_ him, Ceran! Now he'll be caught off guard when Vix-"

"Vix won't betray him." Ceran said. "The mouse is nothing if not loyal."

"We never found Livrec's body." Riya pointed out darkly. "We looked _everywhere_, and we didn't find it."

Ceran blinked. "Even so, Vix won't turn on Kydin for Livrec. He's known Kydin his entire life and-"

"And never been needed. Kydin doesn't _need_ others, Ceran. He uses them, yes, but he doesn't _need_ them. Livrec is a cub. He _needs_ his father. Vix takes responsibility serious, that's _why_ he's so loyal. If it comes down to it, he'd side with Livrec because he's _responsible_ for him."

"No." Ceran shook his head. "He _wouldn't_, Riya. Livrec isn't even _his_ after all. And-"

"It doesn't _matter_!" Riya argued. "Vix doesn't have a true family. He doesn't _care_. Kydin's his brother, and they aren't even the same _species_. Livrec is his _son_, Ceran. He would do _anything_ for him."

"Including kill his brother?" Ceran challenged. "No. He _wouldn't_."

"No." Riya agreed. "Vix wouldn't kill Kydin. But he might look the other way while someone else does it. He might lure Kydin into a trap. He'd tell himself it wasn't actually his _fault_. He'd tell himself, the whole time he was luring Kydin in, that no one could actually _kill_ Kydin. He'd tell himself all sorts of wonderful things, and he'd believe them. He'd do _anything_ for Livrec, including lie to himself. _Anything_, Ceran, and you didn't even _warn_ Kydin!" She stood up quickly, knocking the chair over with a loud clatter. "You may have killed Kydin, Ceran. You may have killed us _all_."

"Hikin could never kill Kydin." Ceran retorted, climbing to his feet as well. "That fox could _never_."

"Oh?" Riya asked, her voice deceptively calm. "How alert do you think Kydin would be, if Vix was leading the way? And king's son or not, Kydin is not immortal He can dodge one arrow, maybe, but not a dozen. If Vix leads him into a trap, Kydin _will_ follow."

Ceran shook his head. "No…Vix wouldn't _do_ that. I've known him almost his entire life. He _wouldn't_."

Riya glared at him, eyes practically burning with hatred and scorn. "Well, Ceran, I hope you're right. Because, otherwise, Hikin takes the throne, and you and I? We'll be the first two he executes." She took a step backwards, shaking her head in contempt. "And I doubt it'll be the easy hanging we give to our criminals now, Ceran. Hikin's always been a great supporter of bringing back the longer executions. You remember those. The ones that took up to three days?"

Ceran straightened. "Riya, I highly doubt Hikin would get away with that. Especially since _you_ are one of…" He trailed off, frowning.

"Kydin's favorites?" Riya snorted. "And that'll be worth _so_ much when Kydin is dead and rotting, Ceran."

"Hikin won't kill Kydin." Ceran argued, but he sounded tired and confused and more than a little drunk. "Hikin _can't_ kill Kydin."

"I highly doubt," Riya snapped as she turned to the door, "that he would be fool enough to attack _alone_."

…

Shray was not a safe place to walk alone. Even Riya usually traveled with an entourage of at least two of her crew. But she had been dragged off her ship before she could arrange for a set of bodyguards, and now she was walking back to her ship alone and almost unarmed. She cursed the fact that she hadn't thought to grab another knife or maybe her sword before she'd docked. She hadn't been expecting to be nabbed from her own quarters. Next time, she promised, she would arm herself the day before she expected to land at Shray, because now she had only a dagger at her belt and a knife hidden in her clothing.

And someone was following her.

She grimaced and ducked into an alleyway. While not usually the safest of places, Ark owned the alleys in this part of Shray. And Riya, by right of allegiance, had access to them at all times. The two weasels lounging at the entrance eyed her casually and then looked away, allowing her passage. She threw them a smile that she did not feel and fled deeper into the city.

"Oy, mate, what d'you think you're-" Suddenly the voice was choked off and then a short kneeing scream echoed down the alleyway. Two bodies hit the ground, and footsteps started down the alley, after Riya.

She drew her dagger and turned to face the danger, eyes narrowed and teeth bared.

Hikin stood a good twenty paces away, smiling with blood dripping from his paws. All around him, creatures shifted in the darkness. He had at least seven others with him. "Good evening, Riya." He greeted and gestured.

Immediately, his minions sprang forward, lunging at her. She got one in the throat with her dagger, and another in the chest. She stabbed through a ferret's right eye, pushing until he stopped screaming and fell dead. And then she ran out of time. The others grabbed her arms and pinned her to the grimy walls, and there was nothing she could do. Her dagger was pulled out of her grasp, and she struggled futilely as Hikin strolled around the bodies of his dead subordinates.

"Why is it," he asked, "that everyone seems so adverse to my company these days?"

She spat at him, hitting him in the eye.

He sighed and wiped it away, approaching her confidently. He took her dagger from one of the bastards holding her and pressed it gently against Riya's neck. "Why didn't you run, Riya?" He inquired distantly. "I would've let you live for half an hour longer."

She glared at him, but she didn't move. The dagger traced idle patterns, constantly moving. She tilted her chin upwards as the blade nudged gently against the underside of her jaw.

"Don't feel like talking?" He asked quietly. "That's alright. I can speak for the both of us." He put the slightest bit of pressure on the dagger, just enough to break the skin. He pulled the blade down and sideways, making a diagonal gash across her throat. He watched the blood slipping out of the skin with a fanatical gleam in his eyes. "So pretty, your blood. Such a shame that you hide all of it away."

"Just to spite you, Hikin." She retorted.

He looked up at her and smiled. "I thought as much."

"What do you _want_, Hikin?"

He laughed at her question. "Everyone asks that." He informed her as he brought the dagger away from her neck and pressed it against her cheek. "But no one _really_ wants to know. No one really cares about my dreams."

"Yeah?" Riya tried not to move her head as she spoke. "Why don't you get yourself a wife and settle down, Hikin? I know plenty of young foxes who spend all their nights dreaming of a psychotic murderer to come and take them away."

"Hm." He said. "Indeed." He was distracted by something, by some idea whispering to him. Suddenly, his eyes snapped up to meet hers. "Do you love Kydin?"

"_What_?" She hissed.

"Do you love him?" He asked. "I was wondering, because it would be perfect, wouldn't it? If you did."

"No, it would _not_ be perfect. I would be a delusional _lunatic_, if I-"

"Because then the two of you could marry, and you would have your throne after all." He smiled at her, and he seemed so _friendly_, so damned _concerned_. "So, I was wondering if you loved him."

Riya stared at him for a long time. She had no idea what he was doing, but she didn't like it. "Of course I don't." She said finally, coldly.

He sighed and shook his head. "You see, Riya? It's such a horrible world." The dagger bit into the skin just below her eyes, so gently it barely bled. "Such a horrible world for love."

"You're sick." She accused as he did the same to the skin below her other eye "You're a _lunatic_."

He smiled softly, sadly, and stepped back, admiring his handiwork. "Oh, look, Riya, you're crying." His eyes followed the droplets of blood that welled up beneath her eyes and trekked down her face. "Crying blood."

"Oh, _that's_ original."

"No." He said. "It's not, really. But I wanted to see you cry before I killed you, and blood is so much easier to pull from you than tears are." He shook his head and stepped forward again. "Why do you do that, Riya? Why don't you cry?"

"Because _I'm_ not a pansy fox who-"

"It's just water." He interrupted. "Just water and salt. Give them up, Riya. I promise I'll kill you quickly if you cry first."

"Did you mother drop you as a cub, or did she just beat you over the head with a club?" Riya demanded harshly.

"My mother was my first victim." Hikin confided with a smile. "Altogether, it was rather an artless kill, but at least _she_ cried for me."

"You're disgusting."

He laughed. "You know, Riya, after this little meeting, I'll be going to visit Kydin." He winked. "Off to kill your love, Riya."

"He is _not_…" She faltered as she comprehended the rest of his message. "You'll never get Kydin." She said, inwardly wincing at the fact that she was mimicking Ceran.

"Oh, and why not?" His eyes gleamed with sadistic laughter while his paw calmly raised the dagger and cut another line across Riya's throat, forming an 'x.' "I got you."

She glared at him. "Alone and almost unarmed. Kydin would never be so stupid."

Hikin smiled. "You _do_ love him, don't you?"

"I do _not-_"

"So concerned about his welfare, so _worried_." He shook his head in well-feigned sorrow. "So tragic, that I have to kill you both."

"Have to?" She demanded. "You do _not_ have to kill us."

"Of course I do. I suppose I _could_ just kill Kydin, because, even as the daughter of a king, you pose no serious threat to my ascension." He seemed to ponder this for a moment and then shrugged, shaking his head. "But no one else on this island has such a high tolerance for pain." The dagger dug viciously into her shoulder. "And I've grown so very bored lately."

She didn't answer him, because she didn't think she could without the pain obvious in her voice. Her head fell back and hit the bricks, and she wondered distantly how long it would take before Hikin actually got around to _killing_ her.

Hikin stepped back and pulled something from his pocket. He held up a piece of rolled up parchment. "You see this?" He asked. "This is the map to the island I sent Kydin to." He pulled it open and showed it to Riya casually, pointing out the island in the center. "I'm going to kill him there, Riya. And I'm going to dump his body into the sea, so that the fish may feed upon it." His eyes darkened, and, suddenly, he seemed so very sad. "I get so worried, Riya, about the fish. I wonder if they have enough to eat down there, below the waves."

"Kydin will kill you." Riya told him, her voice sharp and quiet so that it was easy to control. "Kydin will _slaughter_ you."

"Poor little Riya." Hikin smiled at her as he rolled the map back up and put it once again into his pocket. "You really do worship him, don't you?

And then, suddenly, a door opened, and Ark peered out at them. "Oy, Hikin!" The stoat called, his voice full of challenge and anger. "What d'you think yer doin' here? S'not your territory, aye?"

Hikin turned to look at Ark, and his creatures bunched around Riya, hiding her from view. "My _most _sincerest apologies, Ark. I was merely passing through."

Ark stepped out into the street, scowling. The stoat seemed less than amused by Hikin's actions. "Passin' through?" He demanded. "That why you killed my guards?"

Hikin blinked, feigning surprise. "I didn't kill your guards, Ark. It must have been someone else."

"Yeah?" Ark asked, sauntering towards them with a paw on the hilt of his sword. "Jus' a suggestion, Hikin, but next time you go chasin' one of my guests down my alleys, you might wanna consider makin' sure _both_ o'my guards are actually _dead_." He gave a short, high-pitched whistle, and a dozen or so creatures appeared into the alleyway, crawling out of underground tunnels, climbing out of windows, stepping out of doorways. All of them were well-armed, and none of them were smiling. A single weasel stepped out of the doorway Ark had exited from, with bandage wrapped tight around his chest. He was holding a spear and looked a little less than friendly.

"I see you have me at a slight bit of a disadvantage." Hikin mused, sizing up the creatures that filled the alley.

"And I see you've got one of my allies." Ark gestured at the clump of Hikin's minions. "Let 'er go, Hikin."

"Oh, but I've spent all _night_ hunting her down." Hikin complained, sounding only slightly disappointed. "And I'm still not completely sure you'd actually _kill_ me."

Ark quirked a brow and whistled again. The injured weasel threw his spear and only Hikin's incredible reflexes saved him from being impaled through the neck.

"Convinced yet?" Ark demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

Hikin scowled, reached back, and grabbed Riya. He dug his dagger into her neck, and blood seeped out quickly. "How about her, Ark? Are you willing to kill _her_?"

Ark ignored Hikin completely, turning his attention on Riya. "G'evenin', Riya." He nodded deeply. "My apologies for lettin' this happen on my territory."

"I'll forgive you, Ark," Riya said, "if you get me out of this alive."

"Ah, well, if I don't, I'll give a really nice speech at your funeral."

"That's all I ask." Riya gasped as Hikin's dagger sliced in further.

"Oy, mate, I'm _talkin_' t'her." Ark snapped at Hikin, his eyes filling with threat as they moved back to Hikin's.

"I beg your forgiveness." Hikin drawled. "I was unaware."

Ark scowled. "You know, Hikin, not everyone here's afraid of you."

"I would never dream to hope it." Hikin retorted. He and Ark had never quite gotten along, in any sort of fashion. Ark refused to fear Hikin, and Hikin refused to respect Ark's claims to territory and power. They clashed frequently and painfully. Riya felt Hikin's claws digging viciously into her shoulder.

Ark scowled, watching the blood seeping from Riya's multiple cuts. "Best let her go now, mate. I don't feel up t'games tonight."

"Ah, but if I release Riya, I lose my only bargaining chip." Hikin pointed out.

"Let her go, and I'll let _you_ go." Ark smiled thinly. "Or don't let her go, and I'll kill you."

"I'd kill her first."

"It'd be worth it, mate. T'watch you twitch in your death throes." He shrugged at Riya apologetically. "Beggin' your forgiveness, Riya, but me an' him have a bit of a…rivalry."

"Oh, by all means." Riya gestured. "Kill the bastard." _Kill him before he kills Kydin. Kill him, Ark. **Kill him.**_

Hikin sighed. "I do so _hate_ it when you get cavalier about your own death."

Ark's grinned and nodded to five archers high up in the windows. Immediately, four of them fired. Hikin's four minions dropped beside him, arrows in their throats.

"Was that truly necessary?" Hikin demanded. "It's hard enough to find good help these days without you going around and killing them."

Ark snorted. "Let her go, Hikin, or I'll kill you both."

"If I'm going to die anyway, I might as well take-"

"Don't flatter yourself." Ark's voice was harsh, derisive. "I don't need to kill you. You're not as much of a threat as you think you are. Let her go, and I'll let you walk out of here." He smiled coldly. "Come back again without permission, however, and I'll do to you what I do to everyone who trespasses."

Hikin tensed the slightest bit. Whatever he thought of Ark, he obviously didn't like the idea of what happened to those that made the stoat angry. For a moment, it seemed as if Hikin was going to slit Riya's throat and take death instead of humiliation, but Hikin was nothing if not reasonable when it came to his own life. He stepped back, allowing Riya to leave.

She moved quickly, stalking away from him and over to Ark. The stoat gave her a brief worried look before turning back to Hikin with a stony expression. "Now," he growled, "get out."

The fox turned, tail thrashing, and sauntered away. And then, when he was almost out of bowshot, he turned around and smirked at Ark, opening his mouth to speak.

The fifth archer fired, and the arrow dug into the earth directly beside Hikin's paw. With a snort of surprise and irritation, the fox turned back and stalked away.

"I hate that fox." Ark said quietly, eyes following Hikin was he left the alleyways and turned right. "I hate 'em."

"We all do." Riya muttered, brushing at her cuts and then studying the amount of blood on her paws.

Ark glanced at her and sighed. "C'mon, then." He said. "I'll get you to a healer."

Riya followed him as he walked along the alley. The rest of the creatures disappeared silently back into the surrounding buildings. Ark's creatures were well-trained and loyal, but they were getting edgier by the day. Not that Riya could blame them. If Hikin took the throne, Ark would be leading the resistance.

"Thank you, Ark."

Ark shrugged. "Would've done it for anyone he threatened on my territory." He paused, considered. "Except for Kydin. _That_ idiot can worm his own way out."

"You're still angry with him?"

Ark snorted. "Angry?" He asked. "For what? Stealin' my cargo and burnin' my ship?"

"Yes."

"No." He shook his head. "I'd forgive him for that if he asked. I've known Kydin long enough to know that what he did wasn't personal, and I won't hold a grudge against someone who's not holdin' one against me." He stopped in front of a door and pulled it open. "No, I'm not mad at Kydin. I'm disappointed in him."

Riya frowned as followed him into a quiet building. "Disappointed?"

"Aye." Ark shrugged. "He needs t'grow up. He's had far too many seasons runnin' rampant on the seas, and now he needs t'settle down and take the throne."

"But he doesn't want to." Riya pointed out. "He _won't_."

Ark gave her a look that said, quiet clearly, that he didn't give a damn about what Kydin wanted. "Kalinsa!" He yelled. "You in?"

"Depends on 'ow much money you've got." A female retorted from far away. "You _have_ brought me another one o' your injured crew, 'aven't you?"

Ark's eyebrows quirked upwards in wry amusement. "I've brought Riya."

There was the sound of a violent scramble, and then a female stoat appeared at the door, looking blissfully at peace. Nothing about her betrayed her rush across the household as she strolled calmly across the room, eyes casually sizing up Riya's wounds. "You had a run in with a dagger, did you?" She asked, her voice much more educated and smooth now that she wasn't bellowing halfway across the house to Ark. "They don't look too deep, but it would still be best to clean them. Please, have a seat." She gestured at a well-built wooden chair beside a sturdy table of the same wood.

Riya blinked and took the offered seat as Kalinsa disappeared back into the house. "Who is she, Ark?"

Ark smirked. "The youngest of my sisters." He explained with amused affection.

"Oh." Ark had five sisters, two brothers, three nieces, and a nephew. He was the eldest of the lot, since his parents had died several seasons ago, and he protected his family with a tenacity that bordered on fanaticism. The only time Riya had seen Ark lose his temper had been when Hikin, still relatively new to Shray, had nearly killed Ark's younger brother in a fight over a card game. Ark had left his territory and recklessly sought out the fox. He still bore the scars Hikin had given him that marked the beginning of their violent feud.

"How is your family?" Riya asked after a moment of silence.

Ark looked down at the ground, and all the amusement and affection drained out of his face, leaving behind a sad, wistful sort of determination. "I'm shipping them out in a week." He said, his voice quiet in an attempt to keep the sorrow out of it.

"You're _what_?" Riya demanded. Ark _lived_ for his family. "_Why_?"

Ark sighed and then looked over at her. "Because, Riya, it isn't safe for them. Once Hikin takes the throne, he'll go after 'em. If he can catch 'em, he'll use 'em against me. And I dunno if I could do what's right if he had my family. I like to think of myself as firm in my beliefs, but Hikin has a rare gift for torture."

Riya nodded slowly, thinking of all the different ways Hikin was worming his way into the lives of others. If that fox had one more year, and he would own the souls of the entire island. "Where are you sending them?"

He stared at her in silence for nearly a full minute. Then, with a slight frown, he said, "Riya, I trust you. I honestly think you're better suited t'running the pirates than anyone else I know, including Kydin. You're a decent sort, and I've never seen you attack someone that didn't deserve it."

She blinked. "Why're you flattering me, Ark?"

"Because I want you to understand me when I say that I'm not telling _anyone_ where my family is going." He shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't want you to think I don't trust you, or that I'm the secretive sort. Because, honestly, I wish I could tell someone where they're going. So, if I die, they can go and fetch them when this war is won. But, like I said," he shrugged and idly brushed one of the many scars Hikin had given him, "the fox has a rare gift for torture. And I barely even trust myself with the knowledge of their location."

Riya winced. She opened her mouth to say something, some offer of condolence, but Kalinsa arrived abruptly with her medical bag. "Sorry it took so long." She said, sounding mildly out of breath. "I misplaced it after sewing up that weasel."

"That's alright." Riya said, her eyes still locked on Ark's troubled expression. "They're only shallow cuts, after all."

Kalinsa nodded thoughtfully. "By the way, Riya, someone came looking for you recently."

"Oh?" Riya asked. "Who?"

Kalinsa smiled. "I'll take you to him right after I finish with these cuts."

…

"And you're sure you're alright?" Syvinli asked again, eyes wide and concerned.

Riya snorted. "Of _course_ I'm alright." She said. "These bandages make it seem a lot worse than it actually is."

Syvinli nodded and then turned her attention back to the sea. "And you say Hikin showed you where he's going? Showed you on a map?"

Riya nodded. "Yes. He did."

Syvinli tapped a paw on the railing, nervous. "Riya…" She said quietly. "I think it's a trap."

Riya glanced over at him, a light smile tugging at her lips. "Of course it is, Sy. Hikin means to kill Kydin and I both, on that one damn island. He thinks we're in love."

Syvinli choked on the air, and it took her several long seconds to catch her breath. "He thinks _what_?"

"Hilarious, innit?" Riya laughed softly. "I think, perhaps, he wants to make some kind of tragic love story of it all. You know how he's always trying to encourage all his minions to have dramatic life stories."

The ferret stared worriedly at the sea, watching the island of Shray disappear into the distance. "Aren't you worried, Riya? That he'll kill all of us?"

Riya laughed. "He'll only get to kill us, Sy, if he can get to the island before we do. If we can get to Kydin first and warn him, there's little chance that Hikin'll kill even half of us."

"And if we get there too late?"

"Then Hikin will be distracted by Kydin's crew. After all, he probably won't want to risk keeping the prince alive. He'll kill him straight off. But the rest of 'em? Aderyn, the twins, and that innocent little otter of theirs?" She smiled grimly. "He'll take awhile to kill them."

"Have you thought that, maybe, Hikin told you the wrong island? Maybe he's sending you in the completely wrong direction?"

Riya shrugged. "I've thought about it."

"And?"

She smiled and gestured towards the sky. High above them a lone seagull circled. "Cyma's bird came back." She said. "He's watchin' every move Hikin's ship makes and reportin' back every few hours."

"The fox'll know what we're doin'." Syvinli pointed out, but she smiled up at the seagull welcomingly.

"Of course, but what can he do? He has to kill Kydin."

"Aren't we supposed to get to the island first?"

"Aye, we will. And we should, since Hikin hasn't even left Shray yet. The bird'll watch to make sure Hikin stays directly behind us. If he turns in any direction, we'll know he lied." She shrugged. "It's not the perfect plan, but it's the best I could come up with in the five minutes I had."

Syvinli nodded slowly, still smiling. "It'll work." She said quietly, confidentially.

Riya glanced at her out of the corner of her eyes and then looked down at the water far below. She wondered if Syvinli was right, if her plan _would_ work. And she wondered what she would do if it failed, if Hikin managed to kill Kydin. Because, even if the prince _was_ an arrogant, selfish, responsibility-dodging idiot, he was still the better choice for lord.

Kydin wasn't anywhere near perfect, was barely even endurable. But Kydin was the best they had.


	9. Chapter Nine

((Lots of talking. Not much of anything else. That's coming later. I promise. Oh, and fair warning…this chapter is completely unedited. Mwaha. Tell me if you see any mistakes, alright? Thanks.))

…

"What do you want, Kydin?" Cyma inquired politely as he scowled at her menacingly.

"You've poisoned my crew against me." He accused.

She gasped in false shock. "_No_!" She said, a hand over her heart and her eyes batting in mock-surprise. "How could _anyone_ think of crossing _you_? You're just so loveable and _adora-_"

"You were willing enough to admit love a few nights ago." Kydin drawled.

Her humor drained. "_That_ is an entirely different kind of love than you're insinuating, Kydin, and it's waning fast."

"You love wanes like the moon?" He inquired. "I should've known you'd be-"

"_Don't_ get witty with me, Kydin." She shoved him back against a wall. "I am _perfectly_ capable of being witty _right back_!"

"Witty?" He asked and pushed her away from him. "Pray tell, what kind of wit is it _exactly_ that involves shoving me around like-"

"The kind that _doesn't_ involve me hitting you in the _face_."

"Oh, _that_ was a marvel of wit, Cyma. Truly, they will build _monuments_ to your clever turn of phrase. You shall hence forth be known for your cutting tongue and your-"

"Stop it!" Cyma snapped at him, but without the usual tone of frustrated affection. She was well and truly furious.

"Stop what?" He demanded, thrown by her sincere rage but unwilling, or unable, to show it.

She took a deep breath. "Kydin, listen to me. Because I may never speak with you again."

Kydin rolled his eyes. "You know how many times I've been told that by your gender, Cyma? You could count the gallons of water in the _ocean_, and it would _still_ only be a _fraction_ of the times I've heard that. That's the problem with females. They never say what they mean or mean what they-"

Kydin was forced to stop speaking when Cyma's fist rammed into his face. His jaw slammed shut on his tongue, and he stumbled backwards, spitting blood onto the floor.

"Are you done?" She snarled – _snarled_ – at him. "Because if you're done having your little sexist fit, I'd like to talk to you before I sever ties."

He stared up at her and listened to the instincts in the back of his mind shrieking for him to attack, to _kill_. At the very least, he wanted to return the favor of a mouthful of blood. But he wouldn't. He _couldn't_. This was Cyma, damn it. Not Riya or Vix. A few punches between his other friends was nothing, but Cyma didn't share those sentiments. So he settled for a glare and a snarling flash of bloodstained teeth, and he tried to ignore the strange feelings of confliction inside him when the wince of fear crossed her face.

"If you're going to talk, Cyma," he said quietly, frigidly, "I suggest you do it now."

For a moment, she seemed uncertain, uneasy. Then, suddenly, she was raging again. "I _hate_ you, Kydin."

He stared at her. And then, because sometimes his mouth talked without his brain's permission, he said, "Of course you don't, Cyma."

Something like fire flashed in her eyes. She looked ready to punch him again. Then, with a jerk, the flames disappeared, replaced by ice. "Tell yourself what you want, Kydin. I don't care what lies you've got yourself believing. Not anymore. You're no longer my friend, and your mental health isn't my responsibility." She straightened, cold and bitter. "But because of what I owe who you _used_ to be and because of what I owe Vix, I'm not leaving until I've _talked_ with you."

"Then _talk_."

She snorted. "First of all, Kydin, _I_, as you so kindly pointed out, am _not_ on your crew. I owe you for getting my out of that prison, but that was a business transaction. Nothing more. I don't owe you anything until you've delivered me and Luke safely onto Riya's ship. And _since_ I don't owe you anything, I _won't_ have you treating me like an _inferior_. You've refused the throne, you've rejected _us_, and if we're not good enough for you, you were _never_ good enough for us. So _stop_ giving me orders. _Stop_ getting in idiotic territorial fits with Luke, and, after this conversation, don't _ever _speak to _either_ of us, again."

"Cyma-"

"_Shut up_!" She screamed at him. _Screamed_. He shut up. "_I'm_ talking! _Not_ you! And it may come as a complete and utter _shock_ to you, to find out that the world _doesn't_ revolve around you, and that some of us honestly don't _care_ about what _you think_ you're _entitled_ to."

Kydin blinked. "Cyma," he said, unable to keep the note of condescension out of his voice, "you care."

"Of _course_ I do, you bastard! And what has it _ever_ gotten me? Do you have any ideas how many nights I've been unable to sleep, because I'm worried about you? Because I wonder what the king's death did to you? Because you're always off on some suicidal mission just to prove you _can_, and you never, never _ever_, care enough to make sure you're going to make it out? I _care_, Kydin. I've always _cared_. And it's killing me. Do you understand that, Kydin? I care _too much_ about you, and now that you've turned against all of us, what am I supposed to do? You're leaving us, Kydin. You're abandoning us _all_. And I can't concentrate on that. I have other responsibilities now, to creatures who actually want me around. I have to stop caring about you, Kydin. Because you _never_ cared about me."

Kydin was speechless. It wasn't a condition he was familiar with, and he didn't much like it. He was the sarcastic one, the witty little bastard who always had some biting comment. And now, he had absolutely _no_ idea what to say. But it didn't seem to matter, because his mouth was doing that thing it did, yet again. It was talking, without his permission.

"Cyma…we've been friends for almost as long as I can remember. Of _course_ I want you around."

"No, Kydin." She shook her head, casually denying what he said. Refusing to accept it. "You want the _idea_ of me around. You want the naïve little idiot you grew up with. You don't even know _me_ anymore. And I played along for seasons, because I'm the only one you really talk to, and I thought you needed me to play that pathetic little part. But you don't. You don't need me. If you did, you'd pay more _attention_ to the fact that I am absolutely _miserable_."

"_You're_ miserable?" Kydin demanded. "And what crown is the world trying to force down _your_ throat? I never made you play a part, Cyma. If you were pretending anything, it was because you chose to, because it was _easy_ for you."

"And what are _you_ doing, Kydin? Why are you refusing the crown? Do you even _have_ a reason, or are you just throwing another of your little dramatic fits because _you_ think the world is _so_ unfair to you? Poor little Kydin, everyone's being _so_ mean to you. They're finally asking you to grow up, aren't they? Trying to make you take a crown, and you don't want to. Because you're too _selfish_ to come off your _little boat_ and-"

"It should've gone to the king, Cyma." There was something off about his voice. Kydin tried not to pay attention. "That throne that I'm refusing because I'm selfish? It should've gone to my father. I have no reason to claim it. I have no _right_ to claim it."

"You have _every_ right! And don't throw your father at me, Kydin. You've been using him as a shield since the day he _died_, and I'm _sick_ of listening to you _whine_ about it!" The instant after the words left her mouth, Cyma realized she might have crossed a line. Kydin's paw was jerking sporadically into fists, and the corner his mouth was twitching. He'd never attacked her before, not since childhood, and Cyma realized, suddenly, how horribly bad it would go for her if he did now. Because she wasn't like Vix, and Riya, and Luke. She couldn't take that kind of pain.

"You're screaming at me because I'm selfish and ignorant and arrogant?" His voice was tight and low. She'd never heard him sound quite like that before. "And what exactly do you think _you_ are? You're here, bellowing your little lungs out, because I refuse to die in a war that has nothing to do with me. You think I owe the pirates something? Why? For _what_? You want me to fight. You want me to _die_. Do _you_ understand, Cyma? You asked me for my _death_, and then you claimed I'm abandoning you when I said I didn't want to die. How are _you_ not as selfish, and arrogant, and ignorant as you so easily accuse me of being?"

"Because _I'm_ going to die, Kydin. I'm going to let myself be killed fighting for something that's bigger than I am."

"And you think…what? That gives you special privileges? Hundreds die everyday, Cyma. And a good majority of them are dying for a cause much nobler than the preservation of pirates."

"We not just _pirates_!" She was furious again. Her fear was gone, forgotten. "We're your _friends_, Kydin. We've done _so much_ for you! How can you just leave us like this? What did we ever do to deserve this?"

"The problem you're having here," Kydin said coldly, "is that you're confusing yourself with pirates as a whole. Stop hiding behind 'we' and 'us,' Cyma. If you're feeling betrayed, come out and say it."

"It must be so easy to be you." Her voice was harsh and scornful. "It must be so _easy_ to be such a coward."

He straightened. "I am _not_ a-"

"You think your father would run away? You think your father could _stand_ to run away?" She shook her head, eyes burning with accusation. "It's a blessing he's dead. Because he couldn't bear this shame."

Kydin had heard nearly the same thing from the pirate lord. But, somehow, it was so much worse when it came from Cyma. He looked away, into the shadows, and wondered where all his precious rage had gone.

Cyma stared at him in silence for a good minute, maybe two. Then, she sighed. "The king was the greatest otter I ever knew, Kydin. And I understand how you'd want to hide from his shadow. I understand how you'd want to do everything you could to prove that you weren't him, to keep everyone's expectations low. I understand how what those bastards did to your father terrified you so much that you can't bring yourself to behave like him, because you're afraid that, someday, they're gonna come after you. I _understand_, alright? But you can't fight what you are, Kydin. You can't wear a mask your entire life."

"You tell me I don't know you, Cyma. And I accept that. I probably don't. But, if I don't know you, don't you _presume_ to know me."

"But Kydin…" For the first time, her voice was filled with that same confused affection. "Kydin, you've never changed. Don't you understand? You're afraid to."

"I am _not_ afraid of _anything_!"

"You liar." Again, that vaguely bemused fondness. "You're terrified of losing your freedom, of losing the sea. You're afraid of Vix leaving, and you're afraid of being your father. You're afraid that you don't matter, that you aren't good enough."

"I am _not_."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Kydin, I was worried that I'd have to end this friendship with a lot of screaming and violence. But all I've got left now is pity." She gave him one last look of wearily confused sorrow, and then she left him.

And Kydin didn't understand why the sound of the door, gently pulled shut, sounded like thunder.

…

Livrec didn't know how long he'd been on the fox's ship. And he didn't know why Hikin had let him out of that box. But he had, and now the mouse wandered around the ship almost freely. If the crew saw him, though, they chased him. If they caught him, they hit him. He didn't know why.

He didn't know a lot of things.

He spent most of his days in the darkest corner of the lowest decks, curled up and trying to sleep. At nights, he went out and tried to find something to eat. Occasionally food would be left out for him. He didn't know who put it there, but he ate it. He knew Vix wouldn't. Knew his father would steal his food straight from the galley and somehow get off this ship. Livrec knew Vix would escape so easily, so painlessly…

But lately Livrec was starting to realize that he wasn't Vix. That he couldn't ever be Vix.

"So, little mouse, how are you feeling?"

Livrec tried to scurry backwards, but he was already lodged in a corner. He looked up at the fox in blank terror; he'd given up trying to hide his fear.

"You look tired." The fox looked concerned. "Have you been sleeping?"

Livrec didn't answer. He closed his eyes and pretended he was somewhere far, far away. Home, maybe. But before…before his mother…

"Are you crying, Livrec?"

Livrec heard the fox approach and cringed away, trying to burrow into the wood. He knew his father would be disappointed, maybe even disgusted, but he didn't know what else to do. He was so tired, and so hungry, and so scared…

"These past few weeks have been very trying for you, haven't they?"

And want Livrec didn't understand was why it was taking Vix so long to rescue him. His father should have been here a long time ago. He had promised Livrec that he would be safe. He had said that even though he couldn't always be on Shray, Livrec would always be safe. And he had lied. Or maybe, maybe, Vix somehow knew that Livrec had become a sniveling little coward. Maybe Vix wasn't coming to rescue him because he'd decided that Livrec wasn't worth saving.

"Don't worry, little mouse." The fox's voice was soothing. "It'll all be over soon."

Livrec buried his head in his hands and curled into a ball. He rocked back and forth and tried to suppress the loudest of his sobs. He was so afraid that Vix would never come for him. So afraid that he had failed his father, and that his father knew.

All Livrec wanted was for Vix to come and take him off this ship. Just to come and take him away. He'd do anything. He'd never ever get caught again. Never cry again. He'd do _anything_.

And he cried. Because he was too young and too scared, and he just wanted his father.

…

"You think he's sulking?" Ladin asked, peering at the door to Kydin's cabin with a thoughtful frown on his face.

"I dunno." Carden squinted at the door. "How long's he been in there?"

"Two hours. Maybe more." Ladin shrugged. "Point is, he missed dinner. 'ow many times you know the prince to miss dinner entirely?"

"A couple." But Carden didn't sound too confident.

"Only when he's feeling moody." The squirrel sighed. "This doesn't bode well for us, mate."

"You say his lip was all bloody when he came out?" Nidal inquired from where he stood next to Aderyn.

Ladin nodded. "An' there was blood on his shirt, too."

"What did Cyma _do_ to him?" Aderyn demanded, sounding awed.

"Hit him." Carden said.

"Well, _obviously_." Aderyn retorted. "Just…_how_? And _why_?"

"I wish she'd learn to keep her paws to herself." Nidal muttered. "Because when she leaves, the prince is gonna stop playin' nice with the rest of us. It's all well and good for her to slap him around and then prance off, but he's gonna be moody for _weeks_ after she leaves."

"Aye." Ladin agreed. "My pessimistic brother's right. Cyma's always gettin' away with things that the rest of us wouldn't. It's like Vix, only without the hitting. Well, I mean, _now _there's hitting. But only on her part." He frowned thoughtfully. "What d'you suppose makes him act like that?"

"Probably the king." Aderyn guessed. "I've heard Kydin and Riya talk about how while the other three were raised as killers, Cyma was never taught anything over basic defense. She was the only one he never tried to turn into a murderer. And the king didn't like it when any of the others fought with her. Ceran didn't like it either." She shrugged. "You watch the other two with her. They do the same thing. Occasionally she'll hit them, but they never hit back."

"Must be nice." Carden said dreamily.

Ladin laughed. "Aye, I bet it is."

"Anyone seen Cyma?" Aderyn asked.

"Not since she came stormin' out 'bout two an' a half hours ago." Ladin said. "Why?"

"I wanted to talk to her. If she's angry enough to hit Kydin, she may still be upset."

"Oh, right. _He_ gets hit in the face, but you go to check and see if _she's_ alright." Ladin rolled his eyes. "_That's_ fair."

Aderyn's eyebrows rose in graceful annoyance. "Would _you_ like to go ask our captain how he's feeling?"

Ladin's eyes darted over to the closed door. He frowned. Kydin got a little less than pleasant when someone walked into his cabin unasked on a _good_ day. On a day like this, Ladin would be damn lucky to escape with all his major limbs. "Um…no." He said. "I choose life."

Aderyn snorted. "How uncommonly bright of you." She muttered as she went off in search of Cyma.

…

"How far away is Redwall?"

Luke looked up at the question. He frowned. "Very far away. Why do you ask?"

Honor shrugged, leaning against the mast for support. They'd just finished another of those sword training sessions, and Honor's arms were aching and tired. "I was just wondering." He said. "Is it…do you like it there?"

"It's very quiet." Luke admitted. "I stopped appreciating that for awhile, but, right now, I'd be glad for some lazy afternoons."

Honor laughed. "Yeah." He said. "I would too."

Luke glanced at him thoughtfully. "So," he said, "tell me, Honor. Were you planning on staying on Kydin's boat forever?"

"Oh, no. Not…not forever. I just haven't really had anywhere else to go." He winced. "I suppose I _could_ have stayed on Shray."

Luke grimaced. Memories of Shray still made him uneasy, especially since he'd enjoyed most of his time there. Being comfortable on the main pirate island wasn't exactly something he thought Martin would approve of. "Shray is certainly an…active place."

Honor snorted. "I almost got killed. Twice."

Luke nodded. "That is impressive."

"Well, impressive or not, it sort of ruled out Shray as a possible residence, no matter how temporary. So I'm stuck on this ship until Kydin lands somewhere I can survive."

"Or you could come with me."

Honor blinked. "What?"

Luke shrugged, looking up momentarily as he polished his sword. "Well, I'm going back to Redwall. I've no idea how long it'll take, but I've had enough adventuring for now. You could come along, if you'd like."

Honor glanced nervously towards Kydin's closed door. Luke scowled.

"Don't worry about him." Luke waved his sword at Kydin's door. "He doesn't own your soul."

Honor blinked and then looked over at Luke. He frowned in thought. "I dunno…" He said. "I thought about going there for awhile, but I…I tend to attract danger. I didn't want Redwall to be a target."

Luke snorted. "Honor, there's no trouble you could bring besides the Nameless One himself that Redwall couldn't handle. Our walls have stood for centuries. We know how to protect our own."

Honor _did_ find it a little hard to believe that a place with a warrior like Luke could possibly be full of fat lazy weaklings, as Kydin had repeatedly suggested. And it was possible that no one would ever find out what he was. If he kept it secret, he wouldn't be a danger…

"What's it like?"

"It's…peaceful. No one ever seems to have any _real_ problems, although everyone's under the impression that they do. Almost everyone seems happy and optimistic, and no one ever has to fight for food. It's…" Luke trailed off, frowning. "I suppose it's the perfect place to go and live out a quiet life."

Honor stared off into the distance. He didn't know what he wanted, really. But that sounded closer than anything else had. "Do you think they'd accept me?"

Luke laughed. "Honor, they accept everyone who's not a stoat, weasel, ferret, fox, or rat."

Honor smiled. "But if it's so wonderful, why did you leave?"

"I told you, Honor. It's the perfect place for a quiet life." Luke shrugged. "I'm just not sure I'm ready to live like that."

Honor nodded. He didn't understand, but he could pretend to. "I think I'd like it there."

"You should come with me. It'd be nice to actually have someone around to validate my stories this time." He shook his head, smiling. "They humor me at Redwall, but I don't actually think they believe I did half the things I've done."

Honor shook his head, smiling. "If I ever make it off this ship, I highly doubt I'll ever mention it again."

…

Cyma blinked. "What?" She asked, confused by Vix's expression.

"You do realize that we're both leaving, don't you?" Vix asked as he leaned against his closed door. He looked tired…more than tired. As if he hadn't slept in days and couldn't bring himself to try.

"What?" Cyma repeated, startled. "What do you mean?"

"After this last trip, I'm leaving. I told Kydin I might come back, but…" Vix shrugged. "I doubt it."

"Why? What made you decide this?"

Vix sighed. "You know, Cyma, we owe the king a lot. Both of us would probably be dead if not for him. True, he turned me into an assassin, but if I had been orphaned on Shray as a cub? We've both seen what I would've become."  
"Either way, you would've been a killer."

Vix stared at her. "Cyma…you can't honestly be that naïve."

"You can't honestly tell me there's a difference. Either way, you'd grow up killing. _This_ way you didn't even have the freedom to choose who you killed."

"And you really believe that it would be easier to have to pick who to kill? Cyma, please. If there's anything I'm truly thankful for, it's for never having to choose." Vix shook his head, clearing away bad memories. "But that's not even the topic of discussion. We're both leaving him, Cyma. And he's never needed us more."

Cyma rolled her eyes. "Kydin doesn't _need_ others, Vix. He uses them."

"That's a very simple way to look at it, Cyma. You didn't even give him credit for logic or emotion." Vix gave her a quietly disappointed look. "If you're going to stab him in the back with a machete, Cyma, at least acknowledge that it's going to make him bleed."

"Is that what you tell yourself, Vix? You tell yourself that Kydin actually _cares_ about any of us? That it'll bother him when he hears how we've died in battle?"

"Firstly, Cyma, don't you throw me in with your suicidal soldiers. I have no wish to battle the Nameless One. There's no point to it. Second-"

"No _point_? Vix, he's going to kill us! Either we can die fighting or we can die cowering. It's not _pointless_ to die with some shred of honor left!"

"I wasn't insinuating that it was, Cyma. You have to understand the way the world works. These tyrants come and go. Eventually, he'll die. And then there'll be the inevitable power squabble, and some sort of resistance, and anarchy will rule for a long length of seasons, and, finally, it'll go back to the way it was."

"You can make anything seem insignificant by looking at it that way."

"That's because, Cyma," Vix said, "everything _is_ insignificant."

"No, Vix. No, it's _not_. How can you live believing that?"

"Because something gave me life. I'm not necessarily thankful, but I decided long ago that gifts as great as that, welcome or not, should never be rejected." Vix frowned lightly, thoughtfully. "The problem with the world is that everyone's trying to find the meaning to life. Life doesn't have _meaning_, Cyma. It's just something to be endured until it goes away."

"That's horrible." Cyma accused. "That's the worst philosophy I've ever heard in my _life_."

"Thank you." Vix said, emotionless and unmoved. "Now, back to what I was trying to say before we got sidetracked. I'm wondering how it is, exactly, that you've managed to convince yourself that Kydin doesn't care."

Cyma snorted. "And I'm wondering how you managed to convince yourself that he _does_."

"Because I watched him tear apart dozens when the thief died. Kydin and Marisli barely even tolerated each other's presence, and yet Kydin came back literally covered in blood. It took him nearly a full week to wash all of it out, Cyma, and that massacre still wasn't enough for him. He nearly killed Riya the next time the two of them fought. He knocked me unconscious more times on the journey to Shray than I fell asleep naturally. Trust me, Kydin _cares_."

"He never shows it."

"Did you ever look?" Vix demanded. "Not in the usual places and not in the usual ways. Kydin hides what he feels, because he's learned that it's the only way to keep him safe. Why do you think he bothered to pull you out of that last prison? Why do you think he let himself be captured rather than you or Luke?"

"Because he's suicidal?"

Vix made a quiet noise of exasperation. "Cyma, the thing Kydin fears most of all is death. His first real experience with death was listening to his father's. You know as well as I do how many times in the next two seasons he woke up screaming. Kydin doesn't scare easily, and he certainly isn't prone to hysterical screaming fits for no reason. He may have grown out of the night terrors, but he never grew past the fear. He is _terrified_ of dying."

"Then why is he always getting himself in such deadly situations?"

"Why is he always climbing into the crows nest?"

Cyma blinked, frowned. "What're you saying, Vix? He's trying to break himself of the fear?"

Vix laughed tiredly. "You don't break yourself of a fear like that. It isn't some pathetic _phobia_. Watch him the next time he thinks he's going to die. Watch him _breathe_, Cyma. Watch the way his pupils devour the rest of his eyes. Listen for his heart, because you can hear it clear across the room. That kind of fear isn't something you can kill, Cyma. Fear like that is immortal."

"Then why? Why does he get himself so _close_ to it?"

Vix smiled, bitter and weary. "Because, Cyma. Because he has to prove that he _can_. Kydin can tolerate being afraid. He hates it, and he would never admit it, but he can tolerate it. What he _can't_ accept is that his fear controls him. Kydin loves freedom. He's _addicted_ to it. He would challenge anything that stood between him and the sea. There are very few things in this world that could get Kydin to face death, but a threat to his freedom is one of them."

"So that's why he's doing this?" Cyma asked, slightly subdued. "That's why he's abandoning us? Because we're not as important as his freedom?"

Vix shook his head as he opened his door. "No, Cyma. He's doing this because he knows that if he ever took up a cause like that, if he ever decided to fight against something as powerful as the Nameless One…" He sighed, looking at something very far away. "Kydin would fall so easily into something like that. He loves his freedom, aye, but he loved his father more. If he found himself fighting a battle his father would've championed, he would _become_ that cause. Maybe you won't die. Maybe you'll know when to retreat. But Kydin wouldn't. He'd be blind, d'you understand? Asking Kydin to fight the Nameless One is the same as asking him to forsake both his freedom and his life. Don't ask him again."

"Why?" Cyma demanded as she headed towards the door. "Because it troubles his black little heart?"

"No." Vix said as she walked out. "Because, for you, he might say yes."

Cyma turned, catching the door before he could close it. "What's that mean?" She asked. "What're you saying?"

"I'm saying that I would never ask, and Riya isn't here." Vix gave her one last weary look. "Don't ask him again." He said and closed the door, despite her struggles.

…

"You figure he'd at least be hungry by now…" Ladin said, eyeing Kydin's closed door with mild unease. "How many days has it been?"

"Two." Aderyn glanced over at the door, frowning.

"Maybe he's been sneaking out at night to eat." Honor suggested. After all, that's what he had done.

"No, mate. Carden's been keeping watch." Ladin looked at Carden. "Haven't you?"

Carden nodded and yawned. "Aye. I'm not doin' it again t'night. Not if you lot aren't gonna let me sleep durin' the day."

"Well, _I'm_ not doing it." Ladin said instantly.

"Me either." Nidal added a second later.

"Or me." Aderyn said hurriedly.

They all looked at Honor. The otter stared back at them. "Oh, c'mon." He said. "I don't have the _energy_. I spend half the day fighting with Luke, and-"

"Stop whining." Ladin said good-naturedly. "You should've had better reflexes."

"This is stupid." Honor muttered. "Why're we watching him like this?"

"Because it's best to know when he's coming out." Nidal said darkly. "So we can all jump overboard and pray he doesn't follow."

"Maybe he's not angry." Carden said hopefully.

"Oh, aye?" Nidal's eyebrows arched upwards. "And what, exactly, d'you think he's doing in there?"

"Sewing?" Carden suggested quietly.

"Oh, yes, _that's_ likely."

"Aw, leave 'em alone, Nidal. You don't _know_ he's not in there sewing." Ladin eyed Kydin's door quizzically. "Come to think of it, all those rips he gets in his clothes do miraculously disappear…"

"It's not miraculous." Aderyn said dryly. "He made me teach Zai to sew. What did you think she does all day?"

"Bother me?" Ladin suggested cheerfully.

"Maybe we should send her into talk with him." Nidal suggested. "The worst he'd do to her is throw her out."

"And then come kill the rest of us." Aderyn shook her head. "No, thanks."

"Well, _someone_ has to go in eventually."

"No, Ladin, they don't. We can wait him out. After all, _we_ have food. Besides, where are you going to find someone that suicidal on this ship?" Aderyn demanded.

"I'll do it."

Four heads swiveled in Honor's direction. They stared at him in open-mouthed shock.

Ladin was the first to recover. "Ah, no, mate. You're too young to die."

"I have to talk to him anyway." Honor nodded decisively and stood up. "Come and stop him if I start screaming, alright?"

"I'll do no such thing." Aderyn snapped. "I make it a point never to interfere when someone decides they're through with life."

"Besides, mate, the real trouble starts when you've _stopped_ screaming." Ladin smiled worriedly. "We'll come get you then, aye?"

"Or, better, we'll send in Luke." Nidal added dryly.

Honor nodded. "Send in Luke. He's been wanting revenge ever since Kydin mauled him when he was drunk."

"Was a bit low." Ladin agreed. "Anyway, mate, good luck!"

"And goodbye." Aderyn added under her breath.

…

"I'm leaving." Honor announced.

"Congratulations." Kydin drawled and pointed back towards the entrance. "Door's that way."

"I mean the ship."

"Oh." Kydin blinked. "In that case, I hope you're a good swimmer."

"As soon as we land somewhere civilized, I'm leaving with Luke." Honor paused. "I'm going to live at Redwall."

"What a wonderful way to waste a life."

Honor blinked. "Waste a life? How would I be wasting my life?"

Kydin sighed and shifted in the hammock he'd finally bothered to hang up. "You know, Honor, you never paid me back."

"For what?"

"For saving your life."

"I didn't ask you to do that."

Kydin snorted. And then, with a horribly impossible speed and that odd grace of his, Kydin had leapt out of the hammock and had Honor pinned against a wall with one knife pressed directly over his heart and the other hovering less than an inch away from his eye. "Ask me now."

Honor stared at the blade of the knife. "Stop it, Kydin. I came here to talk, not play games."

"Play games?" Kydin asked distractedly. "Is that what you think I'm doing?"

Honor swallowed as the blade over his heart slipped the slightest bit, and he felt it push into his skin. "Kydin…"

"You see, Honor, I have been very…preoccupied as of late. Has that made you feel unappreciated? Is that why you're leaving? Is that why everyone's leaving?" The blade over his eye darted away and settled just below his jaw. The blade dug in three times, and Honor snarled at the pain. "Maybe if I brand the lot of you, you want try to get away."

Honor snarled as he realized Kydin had just carved a 'K' into his skin. "We're not your _slaves_, Kydin."

"No." Kydin agreed. "Not yet."

"Look, Kydin, you still have Aderyn."

"I doubt it. Not for long." He gave a long-suffering sigh. "You know doctors. They have this horrible attraction to the wounded. She'd be gone to war in half a season. Maybe less."

"The twins."

"Nidal follows Aderyn. Ladin follows Nidal."

"Carden. Zai. Vix."

"Vix is leaving. You can't run a ship with two adults and one cub."

"_Vix_ is leaving?"

"Inconceivable, isn't it? But, as I'm slowly learning, there's no one you can trust. Because everyone leaves in the end, Honor. Take your hero friend, Luke. Someday he's going to die. Someday he's going to go off on some grand adventure without you and get himself killed. Or, worse, you'll go along with him and he'll selfishly decide to die so that you might live."

"_Selfishly_?" Honor demanded.

"Oh, it is so _very easy_ to die, Honor. It is so damned easy to take the cowardly way out, to just let yourself fade away." Kydin's voice was a low snarl now. He was growling to keep out all the other emotions. "I have _never_ found bravery in dying for someone. How could you love someone and yet die? How you could _possibly_ do that to them? No, Honor. Dying is easy. It's the living that's hard."

"Kydin, why do you have to make everything more difficult than it already is? Why can't you just do what they want you to do? What's so hard about being a king and fighting a war?"

Kydin was silent for a long time, still holding the blades against Honor's skin. Then, with a sigh, he stepped back, and his arms dropped to his sides. "You and your heroes spend your entire lives searching for salvation, trying to find a middle ground between being happy and being morally satisfied. Searching for some sort of ambiguous gray area you hope is good enough." He shrugged, gestured around him. "I've found mine. I _belong_ here. Why does everyone try and make me leave?"

Honor wondered, then. He wondered why Kydin was showing him, of all the creatures on this boat, how insecure and troubled and confused he really was. And he wondered how Vix and Cyma could stand it, to be ripping away at Kydin like this. Because he understood, then, exactly what this life and this ship were to Kydin. And they were everything.

The ship was his home, inherited from a father he would never see again. The sea was his land, stretching towards infinity. This life, this pirating, was all he knew to do, all he _wanted_ to do. He didn't desire nobility; he didn't want riches. And it wasn't even that he loved it, although he did. It was that he _needed_ it. Kydin could no more survive on land than a fish could. Perhaps it wouldn't kill him, but it would definitely shatter whatever patchwork remains of a heart he had left.

"I'm sorry, Kydin."

"Don't be." Kydin's smile was thin and defiant, but something in his eyes rang of desperation. "Once I get this treasure for Riya and get my fee from Cyma, I'll have enough to hire a new crew."

"Kydin, you can't _hire_ a crew like this."

"No." Kydin agreed. "But it's not like _I'm_ leaving _them_."

Honor sighed and turned to go. "I _am_ sorry." He said quietly, stubbornly.

"Aye, mate. Aren't we all?"

Honor opened the door and walked away.

…

"Ceran."

The fox looked up from his silent daze. Ark stood in the doorway, a frown on his face and blood on his paws. "Ceran, I nearly had to kill one of your Guards to get in here." His eyes connected with Ceran's and darkened. "It's true, isn't it?"

Ceran sighed and looked away from the stoat. He reached for his flask and drained what was left of it. And then he looked over at Ark and forced the words past the lump in his throat. "Yes, Ark. It's true."

Ark cursed in silent wonder and fell back against the door frame. He tilted his head up, leaning it against the wood, and his eyes slid shut. "Just like that?" He said. "Our time is up?"

Ceran nodded slowly. "Our time is up." He repeated, with a note of finality to his tone that rang ominous and dark. "Our lord is dead."

…

((Hm. So now that replying to the reviews right here is illegal, I'm not sure how to respond to you guys. Any suggestions?))


	10. Chapter Ten

Ark attended the exile with a grim expression and nearly two dozen bodyguards. Ceran, the old king's Lead Guard, stood at the edge of the dock, alone and unattended. The fox's eyes were locked on the ship he would be leaving on, and his tail twitched erratically as he fought to keep control. And, as if to mock the circumstances, the sun shone bright and cheerful, and, in the distance, birds sang happily.

"I'm goin'." Ark announced suddenly and stepped forward, onto the wooden dock.

Immediately, the two Guards that had been lounging on the dock leapt to their feet and drew their swords. "'ey," one whined, "just stay back, aye? No one wants t'make this any harder than it has to be."

Ark's eyebrows arched up. Calmly, threateningly, his paw clenched around the hilt of his sword. His bodyguards moved to cut off the rest of the crowd, creating a semicircle at Ark's back. "If you want to make this easy, mate," Ark said, "I suggest ya get outta my way."

The whiney Guard scowled at him and looked around for some kind of authority figure. The other Guard, a female mouse with a missing ear, gave Ark a serenely unimpressed look that suggested a complete lack of interest, before glancing over her shoulder at the fox that had issued her orders a mere twenty-four hours ago. Ceran, with his back still to the crowd, gave an odd gesture with his paw.

"Alright, then." The mouse said, her voice completely composed. "Go on through."

"He's s'_pposed_ to be in _isolation_." The other Guard complained, but he stepped aside to let Ark through. "The Council's gonna skin us for this." He muttered darkly.

"Ah, let 'em try." The mouse retorted before turning back to face the crowd.

Ark moved quickly down the dock, knowing he only had so much time before the Council trooped down here and had him and Ceran executed for this maiming of tradition. Still, upon reaching the fox's side, he found that he didn't quite know how to open the conversation.

"Come to wish me luck?" Ceran asked after a half-second of awkward silence.

"Come to wish you _survival_." Ark replied. "From what I hear, you'll be lucky if they don't just take you out to sea and slit your throat."

"I imagine assassination will be attempted." Ceran admitted. "But I doubt that being a failure has made me any easier to kill."

"It's a lunatic tradition." Ark snarled. "T'exile you just cuz the king's heart stopped beatin'."

"It was needed, once. After all, the Lead Guard is the closet to the king. Used to be, creatures in my position could assassinate our lord for a substantial sum without ever bein' challenged." He shrugged. "The Council actually did me a favor."

"By exilin' you?"

"By not killing me." Ceran's tail slashed the air brutally. "They have the right, you know. Even now, they could order me executed. I'm the first Lead Guard to be exiled rather than executed after the death of their lord."

Ark hesitated, taking that in. "Did…did they even tell you where you're goin'?"

"Of course not. They won't even tell the captain. They'll give her a letter to open as soon as we're out of sight of Shray, and, even then, she's not supposed to tell anyone else onboard except the first mate."

Ark nodded. "Kalinsa's takin' you, isn't she?"

"Oh, yes. And I heard she's quite displeased at having to navigate herself."

"Well, she'll get you there safe, at least."

"If her crew doesn't mutiny. After all, they're not being paid for this little venture. They could simply dump me overboard, spend a week or two on some island, and then come sailing back in without wasting too much effort on my behalf."

"You're a right little ray o' sunshine, mate."

Ceran snorted and glanced over at Ark with a light smile on his face. "Do me a favor, Ark. When Riya comes back, keep her safe."

"With Hikin in charge, that'll be awfully hard t'do."

"Well, the king _did_ say that Shray goes to whoever comes back first, Kydin or Hikin."

"You honestly believe Kydin would be stupid enough to stumble back here and accidentally take the throne?"

"Well, Ark, fate has always had one wicked sense of humor. And, as of now, its cruelty is all we have to depend on." Ceran's eyes darted over towards the castle. "Leave, Ark. They'll be coming soon, and there's no point in the both of us dying."

"You won't die, mate." Ark said, even as he took a step back. "Kalinsa'll keep you safe."

"Indeed. When I said there's no point in the both of us dying, Ark, I meant that there's no reason for _me_ to." His tail thrashed wildly for a moment and then he went as still as a statue. His next words were faint, but echoed with defeat and sorrow. "All who stay here will perish, Ark. Everyone on Shray will die."

…

_Blue eyes and sharp teeth._ _Bloodstains and a scream of fury._

_Pain everywhere, and darkness. It smelled of rotten bodies and rusted steel. The air filled with screams._

_A monster stalked him, and he refused to run. He knew he would die. Might as well die without being a coward._

_Something lurked behind him, breathing on his neck. Teeth pierced his flesh brutally, digging deeper, deeper._

_He screamed._

_And everything changed._

_A mouse stood before him now, the entire landscape peaceful and blue. A small, sympathetic smile settled over the mouse's face. "Did you think that by refusing to acknowledge your problems, they would go away?"_

_Kydin_ _sized the mouse up slowly. "Who're you?" He demanded harshly. The aura of strength and compassion that radiated off the mouse set his teeth on edge. It reminded him of Hero, only much more potent._

"_That doesn't matter." The mouse said. "What matters is that **you** are refusing to live up to your potential."_

_Kydin_ _snorted. The panic was wearing off quickly in this in environment, but the aftertaste of terror lingered like the faintest hint of blood in the back of his throat._

"_You need to stop running from your place in the world." The mouse looked at Kydin casually, almost condescendingly. "I understand that you may have some feelings of unease, since your father died as he did, but-"_

"_Look, mouse, I don't even know who you are. And you **definitely **don't know anything about me." Kydin's voice was harsh, viciously out of place in this placid landscape._

"_So aggressive."_ _The mouse shook his head, a light smile tugging at his lips. "Why? What does it accomplish to antagonize the world?"_

"_Usually keeps idiots from talkin' to me too much." Kydin said pointedly._

_The mouse laughed and gestured. Suddenly an image floated between them. Kydin sat on a familiar throne with a crown on his head, looking intense and troubled. His mouth was pressed tightly together and faint lines branched from his eyes. A small cub was sprawled across his lap, passed out with his mouth wide open. But Kydin didn't pay any attention to the sleeping infant. Instead, he stared off into the distance as if watching some horrible event play out that he was unable to interfere with. Somehow, he personified uneasily alert wisdom._

"_You see?" The mouse asked. "**This** is what you're supposed to be. This is what you **will** be, if you stop playing with fate."_

"_That's disgustin', mate." Kydin sneered at the image. "What am I? A senile old bastard who can't remember where I stashed the ale?"_

"_Close enough, I suppose." The mouse shrugged. "By the way, that **is** a crown on your head."_

"_I noticed." Kydin growled._

"_You really should stop fighting so hard against what you're supposed to be."_

_Kydin_ _hissed in displeasure. "I'm not **supposed** to be anythin'. I have a **choice**."_

"_Well, yes. But by thwarting your destiny, you're only damaging the world."_

"_Maybe the world deserves to be damaged."_

"_Ah." The mouse shifted slightly. "Perhaps I should've been more specific. I meant that you're only doing damage to **your** world."_

_Kydin_ _frowned. "What's that mean?"_

_The mouse shrugged. "This." He gestured._

_Suddenly an image of Riya hung between them. She was kneeling with a ferocious snarl tugging her lips back over her teeth. Her eyes shone angrily, defiantly. But her lips were cracked, bleeding sluggishly from several places. Her right eye was swollen half-shut. The rest of her face was a multitude of bruises, swelling, and scabs. Her arms were tied behind her back, and her legs were bound with shackles. Someone held a dagger to her throat, and she stared upwards with pride and hatred and defiance, but the defeat shone through; she knew she was going to die._

_Kydin_ _swallowed slowly. "Riya have herself a bad day?"_

"_Riya will have herself a bad few weeks." The mouse retorted. "After Hikin takes the throne, she'll return to Shray in an attempt to rouse the populace into a rebellion. It won't work. His spies will find her and bring her to him. After approximately two months, Hikin gets bored, cuts her eyes out, and throws her out to sea. Eventually, she drowns."_

"_You make these stories up for fun?" Kydin asked. "Because, honestly, that's a little disturbing."_

_The mouse's eyes narrowed, and the image shifted. It showed Vix lying on the shore of some incredibly sandy beach. His forearms were slashed wide open. It looked as if he had slit his wrists and then **pried** the flesh apart. His eyes stared blankly and, written on the sand, was an apology. The waves lapped at it gently; by the time the tide came in, it would be erased completely._

"_Vix left early, did he?" Kydin inquired, averting his eyes. He didn't want to see Vix dead. _

"_Yes. The guilt eventually won out."_

_Kydin_ _nodded slowly. "Ah, well, figured it would. If anything's gonna kill Vix, it'll be himself." _

_The mouse looked somewhat less than pleased by this response. "Is this doing **nothing** to you? Do you not care about the horrific deaths those around you will endure because of your betrayal?"_

"_Mate, I'm not **betrayin**' anyone. They're leavin' **me**. It's not my job to protect those that run away from me. I can barely keep up with the ones that stay on the same damn **ship**, alright?" Kydin scowled, highly irritated by this sanctimonious mouse. "'sides, you're not showin' me anythin' I didn't expect. I know Riya's gonna get herself killed, and I know damn well she's not sensible enough to find herself an easy death. As for Vix…well, like I said. If anything's gonna get him, it'll be himself."_

"_Ah." The mouse said slowly, suddenly realizing. "You need a shock."_

"_What I **need** is for you to stop **harassing** me."_

_The mouse just gave him a long solemn look before making that same strange gesture with his paw. And the image that replaced Vix's dead body caught Kydin like an axe to the ribcage. _

_Cyma was on the ground, struggling to rise. She had one paw wrapped tight around her chest, holding her side. Blood dripped past her paw, falling to the ground like a waterfall of crimson. Her teeth were barred in pain and bitter determination. Desperation and denial shone from her eyes, and it occurred to Kydin that she was afraid, terribly horribly afraid. But she was still trying to stand, still ruthlessly battling to gain her footing. And, crouched behind her, were three small cubs, two weasels and a mouse. They clung to each other and wailed, watching what Kydin realized was their protector failing to save them. She was weaponless and helpless, and she was going to die._

"_Do you see what happens when you fail to take up your role?" The mouse was quiet, saddened. "Others must try to shoulder the burden themselves. But they were not made for it. She cannot endure it. She would die trying so that you do not have to, but you must understand…she **will** die. She shouldn't. She's not supposed to. But she **will**. Because you're too in love with your freedom to realize that it means **nothing**, that it's **empty**. Because you're afraid of death."_

_Something squirmed in the pit of Kydin's stomach, uncomfortable and angry._

"_Because you're not there to save her."_

_And, suddenly, the squirming in his stomach exploded. His blood caught fire._

_He roared and lunged, claws out. He was going to rip the damned mouse's **throat** out._

And then, suddenly, he was awake. Awake and moving. He flopped out of his hammock, hit the floor, and then went sprinting out of his cabin, yanking the door open so violently that it came off one of its hinges. Heedless of the damage he had done, Kydin continued his dash through the ship, mindless and panicked, until he came to Cyma's door. He grabbed at the doorknob and twisted hurriedly, but the door refused to open. He barley had time to realize it was locked before he was throwing himself at it as hard as he could.

It took him two brutal attacks before the door gave way.

"_Kydin_!" Cyma shrieked, stumbling out of bed with a dagger in her paw and her eyes wide and alert. "Have you lost your _mind_?"

Kydin froze in her doorway, staring at her with a look of absolute shock. Inside, relief washed through him like icy water, soothing away the boiling in his blood veins. He took a deep breath, relaxing against the splintered doorframe. "You're fine."

"I _was_!" She snarled. "Until you came _barging_ through here like a _lunatic_!"

Kydin nodded slowly, heedless of her anger. "You're not going to war."

"I'm _what_?"

"You're staying here." He said. "With me. Until it's over."

"You _have_ gone mad!" She hissed. "You don't _own_ me, Kydin. I go _where_ I please, _when_ I please."

"Aye." Kydin agreed. "Unless you think you're gettin' off this ship anywhere between now and when the Nameless One stops breathin'."

Her eyes burned with fury. "And tell me, Kydin, what exactly made you think you could _possibly _confine _me_?"

He shrugged, still far too relieved that she was alive and healthy to bother censoring his words. "Because I'm the one with the bigger biceps."

Her eyebrows arched dangerously. "Oh?" She asked. "Really?"

And then she threw the dagger at his face.

He dodged, but his reflexes were still diluted by sleep. The flying dagger grazed his arm, leaving behind it a wide gash already filling with blood. Stupidly, he stared down at it for a moment. "That was a bit uncalled for." He said finally, blankly.

"You can't just come in here and tell me you're gonna _kidnap_ me without expecting retribution, Kydin!" Cyma snarled at him before stalking forward and grabbing his wounded arm in a painful, jerking manner. "Now, come _on_."

Kydin looked at her out of the corner in suspicion and wary mistrust. "Are you gonna _stab_ me again?" The unexpected pain had shattered the remnants of his muddled hysteria. He was fully awake now, and the wound stung viciously.

"It's possible." She retorted, her eyes dark with exasperation, fury, and threat. And then, flickering briefly, he saw everything they used to be, and he didn't really have it in him to throw another witty quip in her face. He wanted to erase all that the seasons had done, all the damage she'd endured. He wanted her to be as happy and carefree as she once was. And he knew that she could be, he could _make_ her that way, but he wasn't near cowardly enough to offer the olive branch now.

Because he'd learned, damn it. He'd learned that some wounds were best left festering, that sometimes peace and happiness just cost too damn much.

He'd learned that sometimes you had to break the heart to save the neck the trouble.

He followed her up to the deck, silent with his eyes low and his mouth a tight, thin line. She pushed him up against the railing, disappeared momentarily, and returned with a vengeance and a glass full of salt water.

"What're you gonna do with-"

Kydin stopped talking the moment the water splashed against his cut. His chin jerked up, and his jaw clenched shut. For a minute, he breathed harsh and angry, and then he just let it go.

"So, Kydin, you gonna tell me what brought on your outburst?" Cyma demanded as she set to work meticulously cleaning a cut that probably required less than a fourth of the attention she was giving it.

"No." Kydin retorted, concentrating on unclenching his jaw. "You gonna tell me why you just threw salt water on me?"

She let out an exasperated sigh. "Because I like watching you squirm, Kydin."

"You and the rest of the world."

"Oh, right, because _your_ life is just so damn hard." She snorted. "Because it's not like the entire world's catering to _you_."

"Catering to _me_?" Kydin demanded. "How the _hell_ is the world catering to _me_?"

He hissed as she prodded his wound. "Don't pretend you haven't noticed how the entire world just set itself _up_ for you."

"Humor me." Kydin retorted, trying not to bare his teeth.

She rolled her eyes. For a moment, it seemed as if she would refuse to answer him. Then, she sighed and gave in, as she usually did. "The Nameless One's forces are spread over two continents right now." Her voice was grim and yet hesitant, as if she were waiting for him to interrupt. "He's got a foothold in one, but most of his minions are back across the sea. Right now, he's vulnerable. Meanwhile, all those other folk, the ones that'd follow Luke, for example, are unprepared and uncertain. They've heard about the Nameless One, sure, but they're not actually sure they believe he exists. Their denial makes them easy targets. The Nameless One _will_ consume them if he can get all his troops across the sea."

She hesitated, her grip much gentler now as she carefully bandaged the cut. "And the pirates, who stand in perfect position to attack the Nameless One's ships while they're not expecting it and take out a good majority of his troops, have a king who is too sick and too weary to spend more than five hours at a time out of his bed. The heir has not been named, and there are only two likely candidates."

She sighed, stepping back now that she had finished tending to the wound she'd inflicted. "It should rightly go to you. But you're not overly interested in it. In fact, you avoid talking about it at all costs." Her eyes narrowed. "C'mon, Kydin. You don't see how the entire world's lined up waiting for you to decide to abandon us to die or not?"

"To _die_?" Kydin rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the sudden shifting in his stomach. "That's rather dramatic, don't you think?"

"No, Kydin. I don't. Because if Hikin takes over, he'll ally himself with the Nameless One. There will be a rebellion, and we'll lose. We'll _die_."

"No." Kydin shook his head. "No, you won't. Because you're not getting off this ship."

She sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest and staring up at the skies in bleak indifference. "What're you gonna do Kydin? Kidnap me and hold me here until it's safe?"

"That's the plan."

"Why?"

He snorted and gave her a brief, crooked smile. "Cuz I'd miss you if you died."

For an instant, she looked over at him and that same wistful, twisted smile glinted in her eyes. Then, she shook her head, eyes closing briefly. "I wouldn't let you, you know. I'd escape. Or I'd kill myself trying. I won't be rendered useless when the world needs me most."

Kydin stared at her out of the corner of his eyes, torn now. "Cyma…"

"No. I won't cower here with you." But she seemed sad and regretful. As if she were being forced to make some horrible decision; as if she, too, were being torn in two. "I'm going to help, Kydin. If that means that I have to…die, then I'll do it. I'll do anything, you understand? _Everything_."

"But _why_?"

"Because, Kydin." She sighed deeply, miserably. "Because it's the right thing to do, even if it's hard. Even if it's cruel. Even if it's wrong. Even if…" She looked away, eyes narrowed and intense. "Even if it's lonely."

"Lonely?"

She looked up at him and gave a sad, bitter smile that stung like the salt had in his open wound. "What? You think I won't miss you, too?"

"_Do you see what happens when you fail to take up your role? Others must try to shoulder the burden themselves. But they were not made for it."_

The words echoed in Kydin's mind, and he tried to shove them away. Somewhere inside him something had gone horribly wrong, and he wanted to concentrate on that.

"_She cannot endure it."_

It felt like his stomach was simultaneously crawling up his throat and dropping down into infinity.

"_She would die trying so that you do not have to, but you must understand…she **will** die."_

And he didn't want her to die. He _didn't want_ her to die. Of all the things that he didn't want to happen, Cyma dying desperate and helpless and afraid seemed to be the worst. Because nothing, _nothing_, could be more unfair.

"_She shouldn't. She's not supposed to. But she **will**. Because you're too in love with your freedom to realize that it means **nothing**, that it's **empty**."_

And what was his freedom? What was his happiness? What was his soul? He realized at that instant that if anyone in this world deserved to be happy, it was Cyma. Because she fought so hard to protect the world from itself. Because she appreciated the best in everything. Because she saw the taint and the rust and the rot and didn't _care_.

"_Because you're afraid of death."_

Because she was willing to die for a cause that she wasn't strong enough to champion. Because she was willing to give the most she could ever sacrifice and didn't care if that made her a hero or an idiot.

"_Because you're not there to save her."_

"I'll go with you." Even as he spoke the words, he felt a part of him start to crumple slowly to ash. Even as he declared his allegiance, he felt his soul erupt into chaos.

"What?" She looked up at him, uncomprehending.

He smiled. "Did you think I was going to miss out on your final heroics? Please, Cyma. I never miss a good comedy."

Disbelief filled her eyes. She stared at him for a long time, judging the sincerity in his eyes. Finally, slowly, a grin of confused joy started tugging at her lips. "Kydin…are you…are you _serious_?"

"Of course."

She shook her head. "But…but _why_? What made you change your mind?" She was grinning, wide and overjoyed. As if his promising to die with her was the best thing that ever could have happened.

He shrugged. "C'mon, Cyma. We've been friends since we were cubs." His own grin was much quieter, laced with sorrow and affection. "I couldn't let you die alone."

And then she was crying. _Crying._

Before Kydin could react, before he could even _comprehend_ this latest development, she was wrapping her arms around him and hugging him. Hugging him and _crying_.

"Cyma? Are you crying?"

"Shut up, you idiot. My eyes are drooling."

"Oh." He paused to consider that, dumbfounded by the turn of events. "Well, I _am_ quite attractive."

…

Later, Kydin lay in his hammock and stared bleakly at the ceiling. He had no illusions about what he had just gotten himself into; in all likelihood, he would die trying to protect Cyma from her own idiotic ideals. But he'd faced worse odds before, and in reality all he had to do was keep Cyma in one piece until she grew weary of war. Than he could call together his crew and sail off to islands so distant they had yet to hear of his father, the Nameless One, and the pirate lord.

And he wouldn't have to leave any of his crew behind, because where Cyma went, everyone followed. She had a power over the bitterly hopeful, a kind of lure for the worn down and the used up, the wearily raging. She drew a certain kind of creature to her; Kydin's kind. Vix's kind. Aderyn, and Honor, and Luke, and Ladin, and Nidal, and Carden, and Riya, and Ark, and Ceran, and half the inhabitants of Shray.

She was, he supposed, the kind of creature that heroes wanted to save the world for.

And then he supposed he'd had enough of supposing and finished off the rest of his emergency flask of rum before tossing it across the room and tugging the blanket up over his head. He'd had enough of the real world; he was ready for another.

But sleep eluded him, and he simply lay there in darkness, eyes closed but mind whirling. Deep inside, he could still feel bits of himself slowly dying. It burned like hell, but he supposed he'd had worse.

The only real problem he had was that he didn't quite understand why he'd done what he had. True, he loved Cyma. But he loved lots of things. He'd never felt the need to pledge his life to one before. And he knew that's what he'd done. He _knew_.

And he didn't understand why he wasn't terrified.

He supposed he could just be in denial. But he knew denial, and this didn't feel quite as comfortable. This felt…sharp and jittery. As if, at any moment, he could slip over the edge and fall and just keep falling forever. He didn't know what that meant, but he blamed it on the rum and tried not to concentrate on it.

But every time a bit of regret crept into his mind, images of Cyma's corpse exploded against the back of his eyelids, and all despair was replaced with deep, burning anger. He guessed he'd finally found something worth dying for, and he didn't like how it felt. He thought mournfully of his reckless life of freedom and pirating, but he knew he wouldn't find any peace with the thought of Cyma's death lingering on his mind.

He realized he was giving up his happiness for her; he did. He just didn't want to think about it. Because he was _not_ a hero, damn it. He served _himself_ and to hell with anyone else. He wasn't…he wasn't a hero.

He didn't want the world on his shoulders. He didn't want the weight of destiny dragging him below the waves. He didn't _want_ any of that.

And he tugged at the blanket and twitched and fidgeted until he finally gave up trying to cover up the sound of his heart beating in crazy desperation against his ribcage. He took a deep breath, let it out, and came to terms with the fact that sometimes it wasn't about who he was, who he wasn't, and who he'd give his soul to avoid becoming. Sometimes it was simple. Sometimes it was just about who he loved more than he loved himself and what, exactly, he was willing to sacrifice for them.

And so there he was, miserable and tired but unafraid and unconfused, and he hoped that wherever that pretentious mouse was, he was happy now.

…

The next morning, the crew wandered in to find Kydin and Cyma sitting together, squabbling good-naturedly over the last piece of bread. Cyma looked ecstatic; Kydin looked half-dead. Wordlessly, Ladin passed Nidal several gold coins, shook his head, and went off to sulk about lost bets and the iron-will of females as a whole.

"So…" Luke said, eyeing the two of them doubtfully. "You two've made up, have you?

"Aye, Hero." Kydin said. "Actually, been meaning to apologize about beatin' you senseless that one night. Seems it might've been a bit uncalled for."

Luke stared. "Right." He said.

"Someone tell Ladin he owes me that ruby necklace he's been hoarding for the past two seasons." Nidal murmured.

"Kydin, are you feeling alright?" Aderyn inquired hesitantly.

"Oh, no. Never." Kydin snorted. "I think I've lost my mind."

"Think that happened awhile back." Aderyn retorted.

"Anyway, I've decided to fight the Nameless One."

Luke choked on air. Aderyn froze solid. Honor opened his eyes so wide they appeared in danger of falling out. Nidal turned to look at Vix in silent wonder and then, wordlessly, passed over all the money he'd just received from Ladin. "I'll get the rest t'you later."

"How did you _know_?" Aderyn demanded, eying Vix in awe.

"Don't have to know him." Vix said. He gestured at Cyma. "I know her."

"I've gotta say, I'm a bit less than amused by your actions." Kydin informed his crew. "Takin' bets on me? Not funny."

"Well, when you lock yourself in your cabin for days on end, you become the subject of heated debate." Aderyn pointed out. "Debate turns to argument, argument turns to gambling."

"It's the natural progression of things." Cyma agreed, nodding. "I would've tossed in a few bets myself if I wasn't busy ignoring all mention of you."

"Funny how long your promise to never speak to me again lasted, aye?"

"Funny how _someone_ broke down my door spouting nonsense at an ungodly hour of the morning." Cyma retorted. "Seems to me, when someone loses their mind, all previous oaths no longer apply."

"Nice to know your loyalty is swayed by something as petty as a slight mental breakdown."

"_Slight_?" Cyma snapped. "Were you _there_, Kydin? Do you _remember_?"

"I don't." Aderyn said. "Please, enlighten us."

Kydin snorted. "Don't you have your own personal business to attend to?"

Aderyn's eyes flickered briefly to Nidal before she assumed an admirable poker face. "I'm afraid, sir, that your meaning completely escapes me."

"Right. As if you using the word 'sir' wasn't the biggest damn giveaway that ever was." Kydin rolled his eyes and brandished his mug at the crew. "Get to work, all of you."

For a moment, no one moved. Then the amused glimmer in Kydin's eyes faded and he twisted to look at them; they scattered. Vix hesitated a moment at the door but then he, too, departed.

"How do you _do_ that?" Cyma demanded.

"Do what?"

"Make 'em clear out like that."

"Oh. That." Kydin shrugged. "Family secret."

"Oh, right." Cyma laughed. "I remember your father was the only creature in the _world_ that could silence you with a look. Probably still is, actually."

Kydin shifted uneasily. He'd been thinking about his father lately, about what the king would have said if he were alive to watch Kydin willfully abandoning the ship. About betraying the only family he'd ever had. About forfeiting himself for a cause both idiotic and ultimately damned.

"What's _that_ face?" Cyma demanded, frowning at him in confusion and concern. "You look…unhappy."

"Ah, well." Kydin shrugged, plastering on an expression of dismissive amusement that fooled no one. "Tryin' to live up to this whole hero role I'm playing. Gotta get in a little moody broodin' between meals."

Cyma's frown deepened, but she didn't say anything. With Kydin, sometimes it was just best to let him sort things out himself.

…

Days later, when they spotted land, Kydin felt something like ice stab deep into the pit of his belly. He frowned, and he ignored it. Ever since choosing to abandon his chosen life, his body had been staging random and heartfelt rebellions. He'd awoken this morning to a heaving belly. The day before, it was a bloody nose. He knew he was stressed. He knew that everything inside him revolted against this idea of fighting and dying, bleeding out beside Cyma for nothing, for a cause he didn't give a damn about.

So when the deep urgent pain struck, he set it aside and concentrated instead on ordering his crew into some semblance of action. His eyes darted back to land, and the pain came again, weaker but lingering. He frowned, waited it out, and then promptly forgot about it.

Kydin was distracted and distraught. He didn't realize that he'd felt this particular pain twice before. He didn't remember that he'd been dragged from sleep by this stabbing, frigid pain the day his father was taken away. He didn't remember he'd endured this hours before Marisli, the thief, was brought down and slaughtered. A part of him stirred, began to make hazy connections, but he shoved it away.

Days, weeks, months, seasons later, Kydin would think of how his body, his mind, _something_ had tried to warn him. He would think of it, and he would curse, rage, cry, scream, close his eyes and count backwards until numbers meant nothing, and he was always left with an empty feeling of warnings ignored and deaths that could have been stopped, but weren't. There wasn't much Kydin felt guilty for, not really. He wasn't given to regrets.

But later on, he would wake from nightmares covered in sweat and drown in feelings of remorse and shame. In the future, he spent many nights staring at the stars with a sad, guilty little frown tugging at his lips, closing his eyes against feelings of failure and disgrace.

…

"What d'you mean, we've been tricked?" Riya demanded, jerking to her feet.

"Hikin changed directions. He went to a different island." Syvinli's eyes were narrowed the way they always were when she was upset or afraid.

Hikin had been a full day's sail behind them. Upon reaching the island, Riya had been edgy, keeping her crew ready to lift anchor and sail for any of the other six islands grouped nearby in a moment's notice. But Hikin had _anchored_, the bastard. When Cyma's seagull had checked in the last of the dying light, the fox had been sending out a landing party. He had _been_ on _this_ island.

"Riya…" Syvinli's eyes narrowed even further. "The bird spotted Kydin's ship, as well, at the same island Hikin's at. Kydin's ship was anchored on the opposite side of the island, but the bird says the boat looked almost deserted." She paused. "Hikin's ship looked empty, too."

Riya cursed, long and vivid. More than half her crew was off searching for Kydin's ship. She stood there, torn. "What the hell are we gonna do, Sy?"

Syvinli stared at her in silence, mind whirling as she analyzed all the possible outcomes of every possible reaction. "The island's not too far. Maybe two hour's sail away." She said, uncertainly.

"Too far. If we wait for the crew, raise the lifeboats, sail to the island, lower the lifeboats, search for Hikin or Kydin…it's…it's too _far_!" Riya said. "He'll kill Kydin." The words burned, low in her throat. "He'll kill _Kydin_." She could fell the hysteria settling over her, in her eyes and in her stomach. Her father was dead, her friend was going to die, her empire was going to fall, and everything, **_everything_** was going to be lost to the greedy, callus paws of the Nameless One.

"Riya!" Syvinli stepped forward, grabbing Riya's arms and shaking her. Riya's head snapped back on her neck, and the pain settled her, grounded her. "Riya, if Hikin kills Kydin, you must kill Hikin. You must get there before Hikin can escape the island and get enough of a head start to make it back to Shray before we do. Hikin _cannot _rule!"

"Who will?" Riya demanded. "They are the only two in line for the throne. After them, there _is_ no heir!"

"The pirates will fall back into chaos, as they were before." Syvinli said. Riya opened her mouth, to object, to defy, to hold together an alliance she had been born to inherit. "No, Riya, _listen to me_! A dead empire is better than an empire under the rule of the Nameless One. If we must choose between corruption and dissolution, we _must_ choose dissolution." Her eyes were sympathetic, but her mouth was a hard, thin line. "You must kill Hikin, Riya."

Riya's eyes closed. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had still harbored hopes to rule. It was her birthright. She had spent her _life_ preparing to take the throne. She had been educated by scholars, she had sailed with the king, she had captained her own ship and raided and rebelled and…and…the throne meant more to her than anything else. Yes, she didn't want to see Hikin take it, but…to kill him and dissolve the loose coalition of pirates that had expanded to an empire…

Riya felt a part of her close off, boarding itself up against everything.

"I'm going." She said, reaching for the waterproof case that held her bow and quiver of arrows. It was a wonderful contraption, given to her long ago by a stoat trying to impressive her father. She carried it every time she swam. It was a bit ungainly, especially in tricky situations, but Riya wasn't planning on doing any impressive underwater aerobics.

"Where?" Syvinli asked, hurrying after her. "Riya, _where_ are you going?"

Riya made her way to the deck quickly, and she balanced on edge of the railing. She stared down at the water and then over at Syvinli. "Wish me luck, Sy. I'm off to assassinate my future."

"Don't say that, Riya." Syvinli said and then understanding struck. "Don't you _dare_!" She hissed. "You're not Kydin, you idiot! Don't you _dare_ take a risk like that!"

Riya smiled, defiant and bittersweet. "Stop me." She challenged and then, as Sy dodged forward, she leapt.

Free fall was reassuring. It reminded her that, surreal as life had become, death was the same. It lingered nearby, always willing to take what it could get.

She twisted her body and entered the ocean gracefully, beautifully; it still hit like a hammer.

She came up gasping, looked up at Syvinli's horrified expression, and started making her way towards the sister island that hovered in the distance, making her way towards a future she didn't want and couldn't fight.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could feel herself beginning to fray at the edges.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Riya was past comprehension. She was past feeling. She was past pain.

Everything in her was centered on swimming, on swimming faster, on breathing, on moving, on _getting to Kydin_. There was no room left for her mind or her agony or her fatigue. There was no more room left for anything but her goal.

She didn't feel the water that sluggishly resisted her every movement. She didn't feel the lungs that labored desperately to deliver air to shrieking muscles. She didn't feel the weight of her own body slowly dragging her downwards.

Instead, she felt the chaos that would be a world under the Nameless One. She felt the burning of a thousand villages hot on her neck. She felt the screams of the dead and the damned reverberating in her ribcage. She felt the tears of every mother alive, all around her, drowning her.

She pushed herself to her limits and then she kept going. She ignored her body; she ignored her mind.

Kydin was no hero, but Riya wasn't Kydin.

When fate came calling, she didn't have it in her to spit in its face.

…

Livrec didn't fight when they came for him. He was weak, half-starved and weary beyond imagining. The past few days had been sleepless. He had stared up into the darkness in emptiness, waiting.

He didn't know what he was waiting for now; his father had abandoned him. His father…his father wasn't coming.

"Come now, youngling." The fox smiled down at him, and Livrec dull eyes stared up in blank indifference. "Show some of your mother's ferocity."

The mention of Livrec's mother brought an old, ever-present pain to the fore. His mother's death had left daggers in his lungs; every breath brought anguish.

The cub looked down and blinked, feeling the tears sliding down his face. He didn't try to fight them. He'd given up on that long ago.

"Oh, look." The fox grabbed his chin and tilted it up, admiring the grief he found. "Such abject despair." His grin was sincere, and his eyes sparkled with appreciation. "Such a beautiful thing, in one so young."

Livrec stared up at him. "Where are we going?" He asked.

Hikin smiled. "We," he said, "are going to see your father. He's paid the ransom."

Something sharp and bright stabbed deep, and Livrec gasped. "_What_?" The first emotion besides fear he'd felt in weeks hit him hard, and it was so powerful that he couldn't tell if it was hope or torment.

"Your father." Hikin reiterated, "He's held up his end of the bargain. And, now, I'll hold up mine."

Somewhere inside Livrec, a star was bursting into life. Hope, an exiled emotion, was resurrecting itself on the ashes of his apathy and dejection. It burned, but he supposed he welcomed it.

He was going to see his father. His father hadn't abandoned him; he'd been trying, all along, to get him back. His father didn't hate him. Or…or did he?

"He…he wants me back?" Livrec asked, and his voice shook because, with the revival of hope, pain had returned.

"Of _course_." Hikin said. "He's sacrificed a great deal for you, youngling. It seems he loves you more than anything in this world."

In his joy, Livrec was blinded. He followed willingly, happily.

When the fox offered his paw, Livrec took it.

…

"Alright, idiots, let's get goin'." Kydin said, leaping off the landing boat and revealing in the feel of dry land beneath his feet.

"_Idiots_?" Cyma repeated, offended. "If you're going to be in a mood, Kydin, you can haul Riya's treasure in all by yourself."

"The hell I can." Kydin said, turning quickly to lift her up out of the boat and onto solid ground. "I carry her treasure in all by myself, and I'm keepin' half."

"Riya'd kill you." Cyma retorted.

"She would not." Kydin said. "She'd just steal the loot back and put something nasty in my drink next time we had a chat."

"He's done this type of thing before." Nidal confided to Cyma with a tiny roll of his eyes.

"Spent five days unable to do anything but crawl around and scream a bit." Aderyn added. "He kept saying, 'If you really loved me, you'd stab me through the heart.'"

"Yes, well, I was _clearly_ out of my head." Kydin rolled his eyes much more dramatically than Nidal had. "Honestly, to think a monster like _you_ could love."

"Indeed." Nidal agreed, but something mischievous glimmered in his eyes as he looked over at Aderyn.

To everyone's shock and Kydin's apparent disgust, Aderyn responded with a playful wink.

"Ew! Re_volting_!" Kydin bellowed, his face twisting up in an expression of utter disgust. "If you're gonna be cute, do it somewhere _else_!"

Cyma smirked and sidled closer, throwing a casual arm around Kydin's waist. "Oh, but, Kydin…"

Kydin's eyes darted towards her, and he hesitated for the briefest of moments before he shrieked like an offended pelican and pushed her away. "Damn it, you bastards! We're _pirates_! We don't have _couples_! We have memorable nights and bastard children! We…we…" He trailed off, having noticed the peculiar look on Vix's face. "Well, alright, in Vix's case we have boring nights and ambiguously collected offspring, but, _really_…"

"Jealous, Kydin?" Aderyn inquired, arching a brow.

"Oh, of what?" Kydin demanded. "Having someone to throw embarrassing looks at? Please. I can do that anytime I wanted." He twisted, suddenly pinning Ladin with intense eyes and an uncomfortably suggestive smile. Ladin, who had been attempting to climb out of the boat, promptly tripped and fell face-first into the shallows.

"Oh." Cyma said admiringly. "You're good."

"So I'm told." Kydin shifted his expression, tilting his head slightly as his eyes became dreamy and his smile became innocent and vaguely wistful. He turned the look on Aderyn, who scowled at him.

"I have _never_ looked like that." She snapped defensively.

"Oh, aye?" Kydin inquired, and the look disappeared completely, replaced with his much more familiar smirk. "Should try it sometime. Works wonders."

"On what?" Aderyn demanded. "Drunken she-otters with more ale than sense?"

Kydin arched his brows. "You say that as if I should be ashamed that the answer is 'yes.'"

"We're here for a reason." Vix said and even Honor could tell that something wasn't right. There was something off about Vix's voice.

Kydin's eyes narrowed slightly. "Oy, mate, you're impatient today." His voice was neutral, but his eyes were thoughtful, curious.

"I want to get this over with." Vix said quietly, to mask the fact that his voice was still wrong, still somehow unnatural.

Kydin stared at him for awhile and then nodded. "Fine, then. If you've got something pressing to do, we'll just hurry this along." He turned. "Let's go, the lot of you."

Since only left Carden and Zai had been left on the ship, there were eight of them, and they wandered in a loose group, alert but distracted. Nidal, Ladin, and Aderyn walked together, smiling and joking. Luke, Honor, Kydin, and Cyma grouped together and, although Kydin and Luke occasionally crossed the line from friendly banter to general insult, no fights broke out. Vix walked alone, and though Kydin kept twisting to give him curious looks, the mouse made no move to join anyone.

"You know," Kydin said later as he peered down at the map, "I never was much good with these damn things."

"It's fine, Kydin." Cyma said. "I've been watching to make sure you didn't get us lost."

Kydin eyed her darkly. "Oh." He said, voice dry. "Glorious."

"In fact," Cyma said, continuing on as if she had suddenly become impervious to sarcasm, "I'd say the clearing we're looking for is right ahead." She gestured at an open space a few paces away.

"Yes. Wonderful." Kydin scowled at her. "Cyma," he said, putting as much sarcasm into his voice as he possibly could, "how _would_ I survive without you?"

Before Cyma could answer, before Cyma could even _think_ of answering, they stepped into the clearing.

And saw Livrec's body pinned to the tree.

Blood still dripped from the spear that impaled him through the heart, and, for a moment, its gentle drip was the only sound in the whole world.

Kydin turned instinctively and caught Vix mid-realization. Something was born in his eyes as Kydin watched, something dark and desperate and hopelessly afraid.

And then, reacting to a sense he never quite understood,Kydin turned back to watch an arrow thud heavily into Cyma's chest.

His eyes moved upwards, and he watched as she blinked once, twice and then fell, with a slow, unnatural grace.

And then all hell broke loose.

Arrows flew from everywhere, from all around, and Kydin threw himself at the ground, dodging death a dozen times over. He looked up, saw his crew doing the same, and then rolled away, moving again. Six arrows embedded themselves into the ground he'd just been sprawled on.

And it occurred to him as he crawled and scurried and rolled around like a worm that he was going to die. It occurred to him that, surrounded by archers, there was nothing he could do.

He struggled and fought with all the strength and speed he had, but he did it only to spite the inevitable, to defy fate for just that much longer.

And then, suddenly, something was screaming from the trees around him. Startled, panicked screams cut brutally short. A rat fell from a nearby tree, an arrow through his stomach and through his eye. Within seconds, a ferret toppled out of another tree, an arrow through his neck. He hit the ground and rolled, gurgling.

And, just like that, the spell over Vix shattered.

The mouse surged to his feet, giving voice to an unnatural wail that all those who survived the battle remembered ever after. His eyes _shifted_, turning crimson, and suddenly, he was berserk. He pulled two daggers out of their sheaths and threw them, and two vermin archers dropped from the trees like rocks. He looked to Kydin briefly, and Kydin had to look away. Vix was gone; the only thing left was madness and hate.

As Vix went after the archers, vermin wielding swords and axes sprinted into the clearing, moving in to do what the archers could not. Kydin leapt up and faced them, feeling Aderyn moving to stand beside him. Ladin and Nidal were gone, demons in the trees, slaughtering all they found. Honor was isolated off to the side, battling two opponents with a skill that would have made Kydin proud, had he had the time to notice.

And then, out of nowhere, came Luke. His eyes weren't so much crimson as tinted red, but he was well and truly gone. He screamed and spat and slaughtered, taking off heads and limbs. The sword Kydin had once admired was now a filthy, horrendous thing, all blood and steel and nothing else.

And when Riya finally stopped wrecking havoc on the archers and came out to play with the rest, Kydin couldn't say he was truly surprised. He had known, in the instant the first archer died, that she was there. He could feel her presence the same way he could feel Vix's rage.

The opponents were caught off-guard and overconfident. They hadn't been prepared for two psychotic butchers. They had underestimated the twins and Aderyn and Riya. They knew Kydin, and they thought they had been prepared for him. But Kydin had changed.

Cyma had been shot.

And if Kydin's eyes weren't fiery, they were certainly icy.

Kydin's rage, it seemed, burned cold.

And, then, the enemy broke ranks and fled, and no one pursued them because they were busy staring at Vix.

Vix, who had Hikin pinned to the ground and was beating him ruthlessly and efficiently. Vix, whose knuckles were raw and bleeding, and who wasn't stopping. Vix, who had Hikin's face a bloody mess and still wasn't ready to go in for the killing blow just yet.

Vix, who was damned and dark and dying. Vix, who Kydin had finally realized was a traitor.

And then, an arrow. It sprouted from Vix's side, and it surprised him just enough that Hikin had the time slam his elbow into Vix's temple and send the mouse, unwillingly, into unconsciousness.

Hikin struggled free and took off.

And, oddly enough, no one went after him.

The twins were taking down the bloody corpse of a cub; Ladin held the body while Nidal pulled out the spear.

Kydin and Luke were both turning away from the battle, both going to Cyma. Luke with guilt in his eyes and blood on his paws, Kydin with blood on his shirt and disbelief in his gaze.

"Kydin!" Riya shouted. "We've got to get Hikin! We've got to kill him _now_!"

Kydin ignored her completely.

His knees hit the ground beside Cyma, and he reached out, hesitantly. He seemed uncertain, as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to know if she was dead or not. But, then, his paw reached her face, and, at the nudge, her eyes opened.

She smiled, warm and faint. "Kydin."

"Cyma…" He looked down at the arrow. Somehow, it seemed to steal away all his words.

"I think," she said, "that I've been shot."

He nodded. "Yes." He said. "I think so, too."

And then, everything was moving. Aderyn appeared out of nowhere, assessed the situation, and said they'd have to move her, now. Because she couldn't do a damn thing without her equipment, not when the situation was this bad.

Kydin and Luke picked Cyma up carefully, gingerly. Together, they carried her away.

Riya followed them, momentarily subdued. Ladin and Nidal carried Vix between them with shocked eyes and grim expressions. Aderyn held Livrec's body carefully, with her shoulders back and her mouth trembling. Luke walked beside Honor, both of them quietly cleaning their gory swords. Both of them struggling to think clearly and not to think, really, at all.

When they reached the ship, they found a seagull waiting. Kydin eyed it briefly before moving on, ignoring its presence. Riya didn't, walking towards it as the others followed Aderyn deeper into the ship. Kydin and Luke placed Cyma on one of Aderyn's cots and turned to watch as Vix was deposited on another.

And then, Riya came and pulled a reluctant Kydin out of the room and into the hallway.

"That's Cyma's bird." Riya said. "He says Hikin's gotten back onto his ship. He's leaving."

Kydin blinked slowly, blankly. He started at her. "Well." He said. "Did you expect him to wait around?"

She hissed at him. "Kydin, you _must_ go after him! You _must_ kill Hikin!"

"No."

"_What_?"

"No, Riya. _You_ go after him."

"I _can't_!" Her eyes shone bright with indecipherable emotions. "Kydin, I can't kill Hikin. I'd be _assassination_. The only one who could kill him and get away with it is _you_."

He gave her a long look. He seemed to be trying to figure out when, exactly, she had lost her mind.

When he spoke, he did so slowly and clearly, as if he were addressing the village idiot.

"Riya," he said, "it's Cyma. It's _Cyma_."

Riya stared at him, sizing up the emotions in his eyes. For a moment, it seemed she would push him, but then she simply sighed. "Damn, Kydin." She said, softly. "You poor idiot. Destiny truly does hate you, doesn't it?"

Kydin didn't answer, and Riya stood there in silence for a moment longer. Then, with a sigh, she reached up and grasped Kydin's shoulder, her grip bordering briefly on pain before she let go and stepped back. "I'll go, then." She gave him a smile that he would've seen through dead drunk and reeling, and then turned around and walked away.

He wanted to call out to her, demand to know how she could just leave when Cyma was…when Cyma was…

But he didn't. Because Kydin could tell from the slant of her chin and the stiffness of her shoulders, that she was fighting herself. He could tell that she wanted to stay, that she was paying harshly to leave, but Riya was who she was. Responsible. Calculating. Loyal.

Cyma was dying. But an entire _civilization_ could be destroyed if she didn't go.

Riya had weighed the options and made her choice.

Riya could do that.

Kydin turned around and moved away, quickly, before the sight of Riya taking responsibility over friendship struck him any harder.

…

Vix was lying on the cot next to Riya. Kydin looked at him as he stepped into the crowded room, sizing up the hollowness in his eyes.

"Get him out of here." Kydin said, spitting out the words as if they burned.

"_What_?" Aderyn hissed, turning away from Cyma to face him.

"Kydin!" Ladin's eyes were wide, genuinely shocked.

"He's wounded." Luke pointed out, unnecessarily; Kydin knew damn well Vix was wounded.

"Get him _out_!" Kydin bellowed. "**_Now_**!"

"He is _wounded_, otter!" Luke snapped, standing up. Honor glanced between the pair of them and then climbed, uneasily, to his feet.

Kydin sneered at the pair of them. "Haven't you figured it out, yet? He _betrayed_ us! The bastard's a traitor. Why d'you think they had his cub?"

The crew turned, looking at Vix expectantly. They all knew, of course. But they were waiting for something, for some miraculous explanation. For Vix's once-unquestionable loyalty to be redeemed.

But Vix simply sat up and faced them, quiet and unafraid. He met their eyes, but he offered no justification.

"Get him _out_!" Kydin hissed.

"He can't walk." Luke pointed out, still arguing, but only because it was expected, only because he was supposed to.

"Carry him!" Kydin was dangerously closed to exploding, and it was obvious to everyone. No one wanted to answer him, and no one wanted to move.

Finally, Ladin spoke up. "Who?"

"I don't care _who_!" Kydin snapped. "But _I'm_ not doing it! I can't stand to _look_ at him, much less touch him." He gestured sharply. "Honor, Carden."

They stood up, but hesitated. "Where?" Carden asked.

"Put him with his son." Kydin said. His lips lifted in a snarl as the two of them moved to lift Vix. "I'll deal with him later."

…

Carden was more than ready to abandon Vix in the dark room that held Livrec's blood-soaked body. As soon as he let the mouse go, he turned and left. But Honor…well, Honor had questions.

"Why?" He asked quietly, kneeling near the mouse. "Why'd you do it?"

Vix ignored him. He stared blankly at his son. It seemed as if he hadn't even heard the otter's question. But then, minutes later, he sighed and answered. "Because." He said, forcing himself to look away from the body. "Because I didn't want my son to die."

"But you had to know." Honor said. "You had to know he was gonna die anyway."

"You think I didn't? You think I didn't know, all along that I couldn't save him? That by doing this I wasn't just losing a son, I was losing a brother? You think I haven't known the whole time that by doing this I'll make Kydin kill me? You think I'm an _idiot_, Honor? You think I haven't thought it over every _minute_ of this damn trip?"

Honor frowned. "Then…then _why_?"

Vix sighed heavily and sat up, bracing himself against the wooden wall. "Honor, there isn't a great mystery here. Everyone who's ever lived has a limit. Everyone has something that they can't do. I couldn't forsake my son to be tortured to death. I couldn't abandon him to that. So…so, I didn't."

Honor winced. "But…there had to have been another way. If-if you had told Kydin, he could've-"

"Could've _what_?"

"He would've known he was walking into a trap, at least." Honor said, lifting his chin. "He could've down something _then_."

Vix's eyes narrowed, and he looked away. And, then, Honor realized.

"You thought he was going to die." He said, his voice quiet with shock. "You actually thought he was going to die. And you _knew_ Livrec was going to die. Why…how _could_ you? How could you damn them _both_?"

Vix lunged forward and caught Honor's shirtfront, sending the otter sprawling on the ground. "What would you have me _do_, Honor? Let my son die? Just _abandon_ him?" He shook his head, and his eyes were wide-open and tortured. He slipped away. "I couldn't." He said, and his voice shook the slightest bit. "I couldn't."

Honor sat up slowly and took a deep breath. "It shouldn't…" He hesitated, tried to figure out what, exactly he was trying to say. "You should never have been forced to make a decision like that. It's a damned choice. It shouldn't…" He shook his head, bit his lip, and tired to pretend tears weren't burning his eyes. "The world shouldn't be _like_ this!"

Vix laughed, low in his throat so that it sounded almost like he was choking on tears. "What're you going to do, Honor? Fix the world?"

Honor's mouth tightened into a thin, defiant line. "One creature can change the world."

"Aye, but not me." Vix shrugged. "Not Cyma. Not Aderyn or Carden or even Riya. The world's fate belongs to Kydin and your hero friend. Maybe you, once you're grown. But the rest of us?" He shook his head, smiled resentfully. "No. We're just here to laugh and mourn and die."

His eyes, when they connected with Honor's, burned bright and bitter. "So, go ahead, little hero. Change your world. But it's too late for mine."

…

Aderyn walked Kydin out onto the deck and told him that Cyma was going to die. Kydin turned away, facing the sea. His paws wrapped around the railing and clenched tight.

"No." He said. "Unacceptable. Fix her."

"Kydin…"

"_No_, Aderyn. Cyma does _not_ die this way, understand? I do. Riya does. Vi-" His tongue stumbled, and he silenced himself. He took a deep breath and looked over at her. His eyes were unreadable; his mouth a thin, indifferent line. "Nothing you can do?"

Aderyn gave him a long look. She and the prince had a volatile friendship. If they weren't at each other's throats, then they weren't in the same room. But the fact that they didn't get along didn't mean Aderyn liked him any less than the rest of his crew. Like all the rest, she would have faced down hell for Kydin. Not gladly, not without caustic remarks. But she would've.

"Nothing." And the word carried its own pain, but the expression on Kydin's face burned worse, burned colder.

He nodded, once, and all emotion was gone. "Right."

"I…I made her comfortable."

"Got rid of the pain?" He glanced over at her.

"Yes."

"What about her mind? Get rid of that yet?"

"I didn't think she'd want that." Aderyn said. "But I could, if you wanted."

Kydin sighed. "She wouldn't like it." But his tone was musing, thoughtful. He stared off into the distance, and Aderyn let him forget where he was for approximately two minutes.

"Kydin." She said. Then, "_Kydin_."

He jerked, twisted towards her. "Keep the pain away, but keep her conscious." His mouth twitched. "She wouldn't wanna die without knowing what was happening."

Aderyn nodded slowly. She waited. Then, "If you want to say goodbye…"

Kydin snorted. "Say goodbye?" He asked, bitter. "How the hell would I go about doin' that?" But he turned, and he walked away. Aderyn watched him go, took a deep breath, and then followed.

She'd wished, frequently and occasionally sincerely, that she'd be around to watch Kydin break.

And now, every one of those wishes was rotting in the back of her throat.

…

Kydin stepped into the room, and Honor looked up quickly to meet his gaze. Except for Aderyn, Vix, Carden, and Zai, the whole crew was there, standing near the wall, peering at Cyma in disbelief and hope.

"How's the traitor?" Kydin asked, eyes on Honor.

Honor stared at him and wondered about right and wrong, black and white. Then he gave a tiny little shrug, and said: "Waiting to die, I think."

Kydin snarled and opened his mouth to growl a promise, snarl a threat, but all his curses were silenced by the vague rustling of blankets. Immediately, his head snapped around and his eyes focused on Cyma.

"Kydin?" Cyma looked around blindly, eyes glassy and helpless. "Kydin?"

Kydin hissed quietly under his breath, eyes narrowing in angry commiseration. He stepped away from the wall and moved to Cyma with a grace Honor had only ever seen Kydin reveal when the prince was preparing to cut someone in half. Kydin knelt beside her bed and reached out, grabbing her outstretched paw. "I'm here, Cyma." And it seemed to Honor that there was just something _wrong_ with his voice, something _off_. And then Honor realized that it was missing its characteristic drawl.

"Kydin…" She seemed to struggle silently for a minute, grimacing in the face of a terror she had finally realized that she couldn't fight. "Kydin, I'm scared."

Honor watched Kydin's back tense up like his spine had suddenly become incapable of flexing. "What's there to be scared of, Cyma?" Kydin's voice was quiet and subdued, but he seemed to be questioning everything, everyone, everywhere. "I think you've already gone through the worst of it. Aderyn's got you on some kind of medicinal miracle, and-"

"It's not the _pain_, Kydin." She closed her eyes tight and dragged in the air in a harsh, hissing gasp. Silence reigned violently for awhile, and then she opened her eyes and looked up at him. And everyone in the room tried not to notice that her eyes were filled with tears. "Kydin?" She sounded young, helpless and terrified. "Kydin, where do we go when we die?"

"Home, Cyma." Kydin was firm, reassuring, and somehow obviously defeated. "Wherever the hell that is, Cyma, we go home."

"But I don't want to go home." Her voice was definitely ragged now. "I want to stay _here_."

"I know. I know, and I'm sorry." Honor didn't know which was worse: that Kydin was breaking, or that everyone was just standing there watching.

She took another deep breath. "Kydin, everyone says that when you die you go back to your family. That they're waiting for you. I don't want to go back, Kydin. I killed my father once, I can't do it again. Do you understand, Kydin? I _can't_ do it _again_."

Kydin's other paw reached up, gripping Cyma's paw tightly. "No, Cyma. It's not like that. It _won't_ be like that. It's peace, Cyma. It's just…it's just sleep."

But she seemed to know he was lying. She blinked once, and she was crying. The tears trekked lonely paths down her face, pointless and inconsequential and so damn sad that Honor found himself biting through his lip to keep himself from crying.

"Kydin, why is it like this?"

And that was the question that did it, Honor supposed later. Snapped Kydin like a sail stretched too tight in a thunderstorm just too damn strong. He'd taken too much for too long and that one question sucked whatever soul he'd had right out of him through his eye sockets and set the damned thing alight.

"I don't know, Cyma." His voice, usually so cool and condescending, was the voice of an uncomprehending cub staring into the sky and questioning the stars. He didn't know; he didn't understand. And he would have given everything just to make it _stop_. "I'm sorry, Cyma. I wish I could…could tell you everything. But I-I just…I don't _know_."

She nodded slowly, looking up into his face that was hidden from the rest of them. And whatever she found in his eyes, she must have decided it needed protecting. Because she brushed away her tears, faked a smile, and tried to pretend she wasn't so afraid that she just wanted to scream until it was all over. "It's alright, Kydin. You never were that bright."

"Don't do that. Don't you draw away _now_." Kydin was angry and bitter, and he was shaking his head in jaded denial. "Don't do it, Cyma. You won't be around for much longer. If you've got any last words of advice, anything you want done, anyone you want me to kill, you have to say it now."

Cyma laughed, and she smiled up at him in rueful admiration. "Damn, Kydin, you take the last wish pretty seriously, don't you?"

He stared at her silently for awhile. Then, "Yes."

"Well, if you hadn't been such an emotionally repressed _idiot_, I could've gotten some decent wishes in while we were both still going to be _alive_ in the morning." She laughed again and then, tired and remorseful and dying, she shifted and sighed. "Kydin, I want to ask a question."

"Ask it."

"But I want you to promise something. If I only get one wish, I'll take the promise."

Looking around the room, Honor realized something was off. The crew looked intent and somewhat startled, and it occurred to Honor that, in all his time on this ship, he had never heard Kydin promise anything.

"What's the promise?"

"I want you to promise not to let this ruin you. I want you to promise that you won't go seeking vengeance."

Kydin hissed in displeasure. "No, Cyma. That's not at all funny, either."

"_No_, Kydin. As long as I've known you, you've been looking for a reason to declare war on the world. You've always been looking for some kind of lost cause to champion, or some kind of reason to just stop caring about what's right and what's not. And I _won't_ be that, Kydin. I won't be your _excuse_."

"Cyma-"

"No, Kydin. I'm…I'm already dead. I know that. And I accept it. It's alright. I don't want to die, I'm absolutely _terrified_, but everyone's gotta die, Kydin. It's just the way it is. I was always going to die. Maybe not here, maybe not like this, but it was inevitable. And I don't want my inability to duck a damn _arrow_ to be the reason that hundreds of others have to die too soon. I don't want that, Kydin." She closed her eyes briefly and, when she opened them again, they were bloodshot but no longer watery. "I never wanted that."

Kydin stared down at her in silence as seconds faded away. Then, finally, when everyone was sure that he wasn't going to answer, he spoke. "Alright." The word sounded like he'd dragged it from somewhere dark and deep, like it had fought the whole way and left battlescars all along his throat.

She relaxed, letting out a deep breath. "Thank you, Kydin."

He nodded, his head jerking up and down in a harsh, too-quick motion. He didn't reply to that; he didn't have to. He would've done anything she asked, and the whole damn boat knew it. Instead, he gave her a tense, entirely false smile. "That question of yours?"

She stared up at him in blankness for a moment and then nodded, slowly. "Oh." She said. "Right." And those two words revealed how weak she was, how quickly she was fading. Her eyes moved up, focused briefly on the wood above her head, and then stared at something far, far away. "Kydin, are you going to have cubs?"

Kydin flinched. "What?" He hadn't been expecting that.

"I wanted to." She said. "I think…I think I would've been a good mother. I think I would've loved it." Her voice was wistful and distant. She was still awake, but she wouldn't be for long.

"You loved everything." But Kydin's voice was bitter and edged with steel.

"I even loved you." She said and laughed the laugh of the half-dreaming. "We should've had cubs, Kydin. They would've…they would've been beautiful little hellions."

He stared at her, wide-eyed and stunned and somehow utterly completely lost. In his eyes there seemed to be a thunderstorm of darkness and desperation. He was watching all the memories he'd never have; he was feeling the loss of every child he'd never know.

"Don't you think, Kydin?" Her voice was weak now and barely above a whisper. But she stared up into the distance with a gentle smile that didn't know fear because fear didn't exist for her, not anymore. "Don't you think they would've been beautiful?"

He paused. He twitched. He held onto everything about him that he valued the most and watched as, piece by piece, it dissolved into nothingness.

"Yes." He said, and the word was defeated and shattered and broken.

But it made Cyma smile as she closed her eyes and fell, quietly, to sleep.

She died in her sleep two hours and twenty-three minutes later, that smile still gracing the corners of her lips.

Kydin never once let go of her paw.

…

"Cyma's dead."

The words, cold and emotionless, caught Honor's heart and crushed it. "What?"

"She's dead." Kydin said, standing up and letting Cyma's paw fall limply. "Maybe a minute now."

"How d'you know?" Honor asked, stupidly.

Kydin shot him a look that could have frozen a firestorm solid. "I know."

"Oh." Honor couldn't argue with that. And the rest of the crew, who were all climbing to their feet now that the vigil was over, didn't seem intent on rescuing him. "Alright."

Kydin nodded shortly. "I'm going." He took a step towards the door.

"Kydin…" Aderyn's voice was faint, lost. But, still, she spoke. "Kydin, where are you going?"

"Goin' to kill V-" He hissed, cutting himself off before he could say Vix's name. "You're first mate now, Aderyn. Watch the crew." He stopped and looked over his shoulder, staring at her.

Aderyn opened her mouth, looked at Cyma, and then at the floor. She didn't say anything.

But Honor was not so lucky. "You-you _can't_." He sputtered, moving to step between Kydin and the door.

"Honor." Luke said, voice sharp as he looked to his almost-apprentice. His eyes were unfocused, obviously distracted, but the slow shake of his head was clear and to the point. _Leave this one alone._

"It's not right." Honor defied, lifting his chin.

Kydin snarled and grabbed him by the throat, picking him up and throwing him brutally against the wall. "_Not **right**_?" He screamed as Honor hit the wall and then the ground, clutching his ribs and trying to crawl away from Kydin as the otter stalked towards him. "What's _right_, Honor? What is _**ever **right_?"

He pulled Honor up, squirming, by his head and shook him viciously, throwing him down again so that his back hit the ground and his head struck the wall, causing his neck to snap around nearly to the breaking point. The younger otter lay sprawled on the ground, stunned nearly unconscious.

"Nothing's right." Kydin said, and his voice now was almost sympathetic, an elder imparting wisdom. "This, at least, is justice." He stepped over Honor and walked out the door.

Aderyn went to Honor immediately, reaching out to him. But Honor pushed her away, grabbed Luke's outstretched paw, and struggled to his feet. Then he took off after Kydin, with unsteady legs and blood dripping from a cut across his scalp.

…

When Kydin stepped into the room, Vix was holding Livrec's body in his lap and crying. From the looks of things, he'd been doing so for quite awhile. At the sound of door opening, Vix looked up. His eyes met Kydin's, and he flinched visibly. Slowly, carefully, he picked up his son and set him aside. He crawled a few paces away from Livrec's body and then looked back up at the prince.

"Vix." Kydin drew his sword. "I'm going to kill you."

Vix looked up at him. "I know." He shifted, moving from sitting to kneeling. "How d'you plan on doing it?"

Kydin's mouth twitched. "If I had the heart, I'd take a few days goin' about it. Only, I'm no traitor."

Vix nodded. "Execution?"

"It's better than you deserve."

Vix nodded again. "I know." Without protesting, he tilted his head down, waiting for Kydin to circle around and kill him. "Kydin…" He said, his voice the same bland tone he'd been using all along, only somehow obviously a façade now. "If they'd used anything else, I wouldn't have done it. I would never have turned on you if…if they hadn't used Livrec."

"I should've killed the little bastard years ago." Kydin snapped. "I knew all along he was your weakness."

Kydin crossed the room and brought the sword up. He paused, and, in an entirely different tone, he said, "I know, Vix. I know you'd never have done this otherwise." And the sword flashed down.

And then, inexplicably, something struck it close to his paw, and the sword went spinning across the room and embedded itself into the wooden walls. Kydin twisted, with a growl, and found himself facing Honor.

"Have you lost your head _completely_?" Kydin demanded.

"You're not killing him." Honor said. "Not while I'm alive." He conceded.

Kydin's eyes narrowed. "I'll just have to kill you _both_ then, and I'm getting _damn tired_ of beasts _dying_ on my damn _boat_!" Kydin's cold resolve cracked, and he was mad. He pulled the sword out of the wall, kicked Honor's dagger far out of reach, and charged.

Honor drew his sword and countered. He fought as best as he could, and, to be honest, he fought better than the majority of the world could. But faced with Kydin, who even while his mind and world shattered around him never once lost control, Honor was helpless.

He held his own for approximately two minutes and then he made a mistake. In ten seconds, he was weaponless on the floor with a sword as his neck. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and opened his eyes to watch the sword swing up, preparing to kill him.

"Don't."

The sword froze. Kydin turned towards the entrance. "Stay out of this." He growled.

Luke was slouched in the doorway, one shoulder leaning against the frame. His sword was in his paw, and his eyes were an odd reddish color. "You harm him, and I'll kill you." He said casually.

Kydin sneered at him. "Doesn't that violate some sacred oath you've taken at some point or another?"

"Several." Luke replied, unabashed. "But I'll do it. I'll kill you."

"I've fought you before. I've won."

"You've fought me sane." Luke smiled, and the red _glowed_. "Fight me with the Bloodwrath, pirate. See how long you last."

"Then get him _out_." Kydin hissed.

"I'm…" Honor paused, shook his head, remembered his cause. "I'm not leaving him to die."

"Best if you did." Kydin's eyes burned cold.

Honor staggered to his feet. "I'm _not_ leaving him to die." He repeated.

"_You_ _can't_ stop me!"

Luke sighed and stepped into the room. "I can." He said. "I will."

Kydin stared at the two of them, and, for a moment, it looked like he was about to try and kill them, all three of them. For a moment, it looked like he could.

And then, he remembered a promise he had made and meant and didn't have it in him to break. So he kept the promise and let everything else fall apart.

He threw down his sword and ran up, up to fresh air and the sea. He ran, trying to outrun the wave of realization that was going to destroy his carefully constructed shield of denial.

He ran, but Kydin, as a rule, had never been any good at running away.

As he reached the deck, he came, suddenly, to a stop. Somewhere inside him, things were going horribly wrong.

And Kydin didn't know what was going on, but something seemed to be eating his stomach. He roared, to let it know that he was still alive, but it didn't stop. If anything, it just dug in deeper. He choked and fell forward, stumbling. No one caught him, and he crashed to the ground.

_I remember this_, a distant part of his mind noted. _I remember how this feels._

His front paws pushed him up as his stomach rebelled again and again. Nothing but stomach acid came up, but that he offered freely. Anything, _anything_, to make it stop. If he had to reach down his throat and pull out his own liver, he would do it. Anything.

His mind whirled in a reeling circle of memories. It showed him Cyma and then it showed him Vix. Laughing, smiling, fighting, murdering. The look of peaceful acceptance as Cyma slipped away from him forever. The blank denial in Vix's eyes as he stared at Livrec's skewered body. Cyma's saddest smile, the one where she only smiled with one corner of her mouth. Vix's single moment of complete freedom as he screamed his rage at the world and the heavens and everything everywhere, as he attacked Hikin and hit him harder, harder. The sound of Cyma's last breath, a sad lonely sort of sigh as her lungs fell for the last time. Vix's tears, those cursed and lonely things, as they fell from his face onto the body of a child that hadn't been his, that he'd loved anyway.

And Kydin didn't know how to fight this kind of pain. It was beyond him and above him, but, at the same time, it was of him. He couldn't fight it. He didn't know _how_.

And he knew, in some faraway sort of sense, that he was screaming and gasping and shuddering. He tasted salt, but he didn't know if it was sweat or tears.

He didn't understand the world. Really, he didn't. He didn't understand why it always had to be _him_. Why everyone he connected with was ripped away from him. He chased after them; he did, but he couldn't catch them. They left him, willfully or not, and he couldn't bring them back. Not his father, not his brother, not his…not Cyma. They just left him. And he didn't understand, really, why it hurt so much to be alone.

He didn't understand, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.

And at that moment, as he shrieked his rage and pain and mindless horror at an obviously uncaring world, he decided he would truly, honestly, give _anything_ to never feel again.

And, just like that, he didn't. The whirlwind inside him whirled tighter and tighter until it just disappeared. There was nothing left. The world could take anything it wanted now; he had nothing left inside to steal.

He had nothing. He _was_ nothing.

He stood up slowly, shaking in the aftershocks of something he could barely even remember now. They were all standing around him. Staring at him in a heady mix of sympathy and unease.

He gave them a long look of blankness. Then, "We're going to Shray."

"Why?" It was Honor's voice. Kydin looked at him and wondered if the other otter knew just how strong he could be, if he'd stop weighing himself down with guilt.

"Because." He said, his tone blank and neutral and just the slightest bit listless. "Riya will be waiting."

"Kydin…" Aderyn was worried, _concerned_. "Are you…alright?"

"Always." Kydin lied. "I'll be…I'll be getting unbelievably intoxicated in my cabin for awhile. Someone make me sober up a day or so before we get to Shray."

With that, he turned and walked away.

The crew stood around, staring at each other. None of them wanted to volunteer to pull Kydin away from alcohol; no one was feeling particularly suicidal.


	12. Chapter Twelve

"_Oy. You're right stupid, you know that?"_

_Kydin's eyes opened slowly, and he found himself lying flat on his back, staring up into the eyes of a highly irate ferret. "I," he said, "have been made aware."_

"_I'm just sayin'," the ferret continued, "you had everything. You had a world in your paws, a true friend at your back, and one of those lovely requited-but-denied love things goin' on. And you didn't even __**realize **__it. You-you just went on whining about how fate was out to get you, how destiny wanted you dead."_

"_Keeping insulting me." Kydin suggested. "See what it gets you."_

"_Absolutely nothin'." The ferret retorted. "It just makes me feel better."_

"_I think, for your sake, that I should point out that I'm not adverse to maiming you horribly."_

"_And I think __**I**__ should point out that you're in __**my**__ realm right now, and you can't so much as sneeze on my unless I will it so."_

_Kydin lunged forward and passed right through the ferret. He fell back down on the ground and realized, suddenly, that it was grass. __**Grass**__. He scrambled backwards, away form the ferret who was watching him in irritated amusement._

"_Where __**am**__ I?" He demanded. He paused, considered. "Am I dead?"_

"_Not for lack of tryin'." The ferret snapped. "Honestly, what? D'you think your liver's made of __**steel**__? You'll kill yourself if you keep drinkin' like that. Course, it's probably what you want. But it's __**not**__ what __**I**__ want, so it's unacceptable."_

_Kydin sneered at him. "Oh, __**so **__sorry to be letting you down."_

"_Damn right you are." The ferret stood up, one paw braced on his hip as he scowled down at Kydin. "I put a __**bet**__ on you, mate. The idiot mouse, he's got his eyes on the hero, Luke, says __**he's**__ the only hope that things'll turn out right in the end. But, see, I learned long ago never to bet against otters." A flash of something, some half-buried agony, danced briefly in the ferret's eyes._

_Kydin frowned. "This mouse you're talking about…he wouldn't happen to be on the brawny side? About this tall? Carries around a big sword?"_

"_The very bastard." The ferret said, looking mildly alarmed. "Oy, he hasn't been bothering you, has he?"_

"_In a manner of speaking." _

"_Damn it!" The ferret scowled in irritation. "I __**hate**__ it when he breaks the rules! 'I'm tryin' t'save the world,' he says, 'I'm just doing the __**right **__thing, Fatefiend.' Well, damn it, you don't see __**me**__ trompin' around in __**Luke's**__ dreams, d'you?" He sighed heavily, grudgingly. "I tell you, __**neve**__r gamble with mice. They'll break the rules and then get all high'n'mighty and sanctimonious on you. It's __**incredibly**__ annoyin'"_

_Kydin stared. "I'll keep it in mind."_

"_And don't go thinkin' I'm crazy." The ferret said, his eyes snapping over to Kydin, alert and intelligent. "I'm a far sight saner than __**he**__ is, goin' around whinin' about the end of the world all the time. Like we didn't know it was gonna go __**sometime**__."_

_Kydin stood up, slowly. "Right." He said. "How do I wake up?"_

_The ferret snorted. "You don't." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Remember when I said if you keep drinkin' like that, you'll kill yourself? Well, damn fine job you've done, you idiot."_

_Kydin frowned. "So I __**am**__ dead."_

"_No, stupid. You've drunk yourself into a coma." He rolled his eyes. "You drink more'n __**Red**__, and, trust me, she could outdrink a __**fish**__."_

"_Red?"_

_The ferret winced. "You know," he said, "I don't understand you otters. The lot of you, you're mad."_

"_Dodging the subject?"_

_The ferret suddenly snapped his head around, as if he'd heard something. He frowned._

"_You're still dodging the subject." Kydin pointed out._

"_**Hush**__, you idiot. I'm listenin'." _

"_To what?" Kydin rolled his eyes. "There's nothin' there."_

"_Nothin' __**you**__ can hear." The ferret retorted cryptically and tilted his head further, eyes half-closing. Finally, with a scowl blooming on his face, he turned back to the Kydin. "Well, damn."_

_Kydin blinked. "What's that mean?"_

"_It means __**I've**__ gotta dance around the mouse's rules again." He stepped forward. "You've gotta go back. Now."_

_Kydin stepped back. "What if I don't want to?"_

_The ferret gave him a long, level stare. "Haven't you figured it out yet, otter? It doesn't matter what you want. You had your chance at happiness. You missed it. It doesn't matter what you want anymore. You're a puppet now, just like everyone else."_

"_And you want me to go __**back**__?" Kydin demanded._

"_No." The smile, if anything, grew all the more bitter. "I'm __**making **__you go back. You try an' kill yourself again, otter, and I'll send you straight down to the hellgates to spend some time with __**their **__guides before pullin' you back."_

…

Honor was drifting. There was no other way to describe it really. He was…drifting.

Everything he knew. Everything he held close. Every belief he had.

Challenged.

Challenged.

Gone.

Once, he had defined himself by his bloodlines. Once, he had defined himself by his homeland. Once, he defined himself by tradition.

Once, but no longer. His bloodline was gone. His home was conquered. His traditions? Meaningless. Erased.

Everything he used to be was gone.

So, he'd changed. He'd adapted. He had become something else.

Of course, for awhile he had been nothing. He had been a ghost of his kindred still lingering, confused, in a world that didn't have a place for him. He judged Kydin and Kydin's crew based on assumptions that no longer had any bearing. He lived by rules that no longer existed. He fought for principles that no one gave a damn about.

But then, Luke. Luke reminded him of his home, of his family. Honor latched onto him like any orphan would.

But then…but then even Luke had failed him. Even Luke would have stepped aside and let Kydin kill Vix, who didn't deserve it, who hadn't deserved _any_ of it.

And Honor was still nursing the wounds from that fight with Kydin. And Honor was still harboring a grudge against Luke for the way the mouse had made him stand alone.

Luke had saved him, yes. But he hadn't challenged Kydin. He hadn't championed what was right, like he was _supposed_ to.

And Honor…he wasn't a hero. He was a coward.

So why had he been the only one ready to fight to save Vix's life?

…

"Honor." Aderyn's voice was quiet, almost fragile. Without Kydin, her temper had seemed to fade nearly to nothing. Nidal had taken to following her around with a focused stare and a thin worried frown. Honor tried not to make eye-contact with either of them as he stepped around the pair. "Honor." Her voice grew just a little, but it still didn't demand attention like it once had. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm going to see Kydin." Honor said, his shoulders hunched and his gaze pointed directly at the ground. "He asked for someone to sober him up before we reached Shray."

"Not you." Aderyn said. "I'll do it. You've been..." _Quiet. Brooding. Useless. _"Tired."

Honor's mouth quirked upwards in a smirk that would have made Kydin proud. "Tired." He repeated. "Right. Well, I'm not feeling at all tired now, so I think I'll go see Kydin."

"Don't be a fool, Honor." Nidal hadn't spoken much since he watched Cyma die. His voice, like Aderyn's, seemed to have faded. "Let Aderyn do it. Or Luke. Kydin's not going to welcome you with open arms right now."

"Has he ever?" Honor retorted and stepped closer to the door, his paw reaching out.

"Honor." Aderyn said, and she moved towards him, looking irritated and concerned.

Honor pulled the door open and stepped inside, pulling it shut behind him. Kydin, who was passed out on the floor, stirred and groaned, but he did not sit up. "Mind not slammin' doors, mate?" Kydin's voice, at least, hadn't grown fainter. It was the same brash arrogance mixed with casual wit. Kydin was the same. "My head hurts bad enough without you addin' to the ruckus."

"Ruckus?"

"Aye, well, the sea ain't particularly quiet."

Honor frowned down at him. "Shouldn't you be too drunk to feel anything?"

"Oh, most definitely I should be." Kydin agreed. "But I happened to take a peek out of my cabin this mornin' and saw somethin' that looked suspiciously like Laoi."

Honor made a quite noise of confusion. "Laoi?" He asked. "What's that?"

"'s the island for creatures who need a break from Shray. It's got laws an' everything." He lifted a shoulder. "It's about one and a half day's sail away from Shray."

"So you decided to embrace sobriety?"

"Well. I've been weanin' myself off the alcohol for the past two weeks or so. I just decided to speed up the process."

Honor tilted his head. "Why? I thought you so were depressed you couldn't stand to be sober for any second."

"Watch your tone, cub. I'm not so hungover I can't beat you unconscious."

Honor sighed. "Well." He said. "If you don't need anyone to smash all the bottles and then beg for their life...I guess I'll be going." The otter turned away from Kydin, reaching for the door.

"So." Kydin said. "It's been botherin' you, then?"

Honor froze. "What?"

"Well, you like your world in shades of black and white. What happened on that island was gray. Vix betraying me for his son. Me wanting to kill Vix because he killed Cyma." Kydin shrugged, lifting a paw in an expansive gesture. "Gray."

"What Vix did isn't gray." Honor said. "That was his son. That was _family_. I would've done the same damn thing."

"Oh, aye." Kydin said. "But you haven't got any family."

Honor tensed up. He twisted to face Kydin. "How," he said, "would you know that?"

"I've told you before, Honor. I know who you are."

Honor shook his head. "No. Not that part. How could you know that they're all dead?" He made a sort of helpless gesture that he was completely unaware of. "_I_ escaped."

"Aye, and the Nameless One's offerin' a reward for your head. But your family's dead, mate. Your _court_'s dead. There are rumors that the Nameless One was impressed with the ferocity of one of your warrior's cubs and kept her alive, but, if they're true, she's the only one left."

Honor felt something inside him curling in on itself, like paper burning in open flames. "My...family." He said. "How do you know?"

"Because, last I heard, he's still got your parent's heads hanging off the battlements." Kydin said.

Honor flinched but his face returned to an expression of bland indifference within a heartbeat. If he'd learned nothing else, he had finally figured out how to hide what he felt. "But my siblings." He said. "What about my brother and my sister?"

"Your brother offended one of the Nameless One's generals. Gods know what the rat did to him, but it lasted awhile. They said he nearly escaped once, but he was caught somehow. He was eventually killed, and his body hung beside your parent's heads for awhile. He was hung by his own intestines, though, and the crows ate through them."

Honor felt a part of his icing over; he felt a part of him setting itself ablaze. "And...my sister? What happened to my sister?"

"Died on the day your castle was overtaken." Kydin shrugged. "They dragged her out of the streams, and, apparently, she broke free and ran into the flames, preferrin' to die that way."

And that one hurt the most. The idea of his innocent little sister with her shining eyes and bright smile, choosing suicide. He'd always taken care of. He'd always been the one picking her up when she tripped, carrying her when she twisted her ankle. But he'd run. Like a coward. Like a failure.

Like a disgrace.

He lifted his chin. "What're you doing Kydin?"

Kydin propped himself up on his elbows and looked over at Honor. "What d'you mean?" He asked.

And it hit Honor hard. How fake this was. How pathetic. How the two of them were circling around each other, Kydin looking to kill and Honor looking to die. Here he was, alone and angry and so damn sick of hating himself that he was ready to slit his own throat, and Kydin just sat there, pushing him further and further from safety and sanity. It served no purpose, this little competition of wills. Neither of them were getting what they wanted. Honor was still alive. And Kydin...well, Kydin could hurt Honor as much as he wanted to. It didn't change what Vix did, and it certainly didn't bring Cyma back.

"You think taunting me with what happened to my family is going to make things better?" Honor demanded, and the bored, impersonal voice coming out of his mouth wasn't his. But, well...who was he, anyway? Who was he? Was he anyone at all? "You think hurting me is going to change the fact that you're in pain?"

"I just thought that maybe you'd want to know what happened." Kydin drawled, sitting up completely. "Seeing how, when your family was dyin', you were runnin' like a damned coward. I thought, maybe-"

"Don't." And _that_ voice was even further from who he was supposed to be. It was a cold thing, and callous.

"Don't what?" Kydin said, sliding to his feet. His paws were clenching into fists, and, whatever side effects he was feeling from that hangover of his, he certainly wasn't letting them show now.

"Don't be jealous."

Kydin sneered. "Be _jealous_?" He demanded. "Jealous of what? Of a _coward_?"

"You listened to your father die. You watched Cyma die." Honor shrugged. "Stands to reason you'd be jealous of me. Me, who ran. Me, who never saw or heard a damn thing."

"I am _not_ jealous of you." Kydin shook his head, and the fact that he was lying was in his eyes and in the way his fists trembled.

Honor made a sharp gesture with his paw. He didn't want to talk about this anymore. And he was old enough now, he was mature enough now, that he knew when to walk away. "Stay sober, Kydin. We're almost to Shray."

"You're not leavin', mate." Kydin hissed. "We're having a conversation here. You're _not_ leavin'."

Honor looked at Kydin out of the corner of his eyes, and he sighed. "Then stop me." He said and moved towards the door, expecting an attack with every step he took.

But it never came.

…

"Why'd you go in without me?"

Honor looked up at Luke. "Why weren't you with me?"

"Had I known what suicidal scheme you were thinkin' up, I _would've_ been!" Luke retorted, scowling down at the otter that had grown increasingly difficult ever since Cyma died. Honor sulked; Honor brooded. He sharpened his sword, he drank the crew's whiskey, and he stayed up all through the night staring blankly at the floor beneath his feet.

And, sometimes, when he looked at Luke, the mouse thought he saw something like disgust in the otter's eyes.

And then there were times, like now, when Luke saw absolutely nothing in the young one's gaze. "That's not what I meant." Honor said, and his voice was quiet and utterly emotionless. "I meant, why weren't you with me when I stopped Kydin from killing Vix?"

"I was." Luke argued. "In fact, I remember bein' the one that stopped him from killing _you_."

"Yes. Killing _me_. Killing sweet, young, innocent, _helpless _little me." The bitterness caught Luke off guard. The sheer loathing in the otter's voice made him grimace. "But what about Vix? He only did what anyone would've done. He tried to save his son. Where were you then, Luke?"

"I...it's Kydin's ship, Honor."

"Oh, don't hide behind that. Don't hide behind that _now_." Honor's eyes weren't quite so placid now. They burned with something, and Luke tried his best not to look too closely. It wasn't something he particularly wanted to see. "You never gave a damn about Kydin's rules. You were going to let Kydin kill Vix because you thought it was justice."

"No. Not justice." Luke sighed. "Vengeance."

"And what kind of cause is that? Vengeance." Honor made a face that suggested that, had he been just a bit less refined, he would've spat on the deck. "What sort of hero are you?"

"An imperfect one, Honor. It was a mistake. I regret it. But Cyma was my friend. She saved my life. I...owed her."

"Owed her what? You think Cyma would've wanted Vix dead? You think she'd be that stupid or that shortsighted?"

"Why're you so angry, Honor?" Luke looked down at him, a troubled frown darkening his face. "I told you, I regret what I did. I'm sorry. But you weren't too badly hurt. And Vix didn't die. So I don't understand what-"

"Is there _anyone_?" Honor's voice cut straight through Luke's, and, for the first time in far too long, there was something other than indifference and rage in his voice. He sounded lost. Lost and mournful and confused.

Luke's frown deepened. He crouched down in front of the otter and tried to look into his eyes. But Honor looked away, his blue eyes locked on the deck. "Honor." Luke said, but the otter didn't move. "Honor, what do you mean?"

"My father's dead, Luke. Kydin's insane. You're not half as merciful and good as you're supposed to be." Finally Honor looked at him, and while his tone was sharp and recriminating, his eyes were wounded and deeply weary. "I'm trying to do what's right. I'm trying to live up to who I am supposed to be and make amends for who I am. So why am I the only one? Why am I the _only one_ who's trying to live up to these ridiculous standards? _You're_ the hero, Luke. _You_ should've defended Vix. I shouldn't have had to do it alone. I am _not_ a hero!"

He scrambled to his feet, staring down at Luke with desperation and tears in his eyes. "_I_ am _only_ a _**child**_!"

Luke looked away as Honor turned and ran. Sighing, he stood up and moved to stare out at the sea. "Martin." He said, his voice low and carefully controlled. "Martin, help him. I can't."

…

_Someone was calling him by a name he'd abandoned. Honor tried, at first, to ignore it. But the summons was insistent, and he'd answered before. Finally, grudgingly, he answered._

_"You have become far too jaded far too quickly."_

_Honor looked at the mouse across from him. "Aren't you the one who told me to steal the sword?"_

_The mouse hesitated and then nodded, slowly. "Yes. That was me."_

_"Hm." Honor squinted at him. "I thought you were taller."_

_"That's because, last time we spoke, you were looking for someone to idolize. Everyone seemed taller back then."_

_"And why would I have been looking for someone to idolize?"_

_"Same reason you are now." The mouse tilted his head, frowning lightly. "You are young, Honor. You aren't comfortable with your own strength, so you're looking for someone stronger."_

_"Maybe you haven't been paying attention." Honor said. "But Kydin can snap my arm in half, and Luke can-"_

_"Wrong strength, Honor. Kydin's sense of morality is...wayward, at best. He can still recognize what's wrong, and, hard as he fights against it, he **does** still care about injustice, but he learned a long time ago how to sit quietly and watch the horrors of the world. Luke, well...he is who he is. He's the best warrior Redwall has had for many long seasons, but he's got his vulnerabilities. He cannot tolerate betrayal."_

_"Are you..." Honor's eyes narrowed. He mulled something over. "Are you Martin?"_

_The mouse nodded. "Yes. I am."_

_"Then why did you choose Luke as your successor? That is how it works, isn't it? You chose?"_

_"Yes."_

_"He would've let me kill Vix."_

_Martin sighed. "I told you, Honor. He has weaknesses."_

_"And I don't? He should have been able to overcome whatever weakness he had. Vix almost **died**." Honor shook his head, incredulous. "**I** almost died."_

_"So you think I should forsake Luke and give my sword to **you**? Is that what you think?"_

_"**No**!" Honor scowled. "I don't want it. I never wanted it. But why did you give him the sword? With his weaknesses. With his vulnerabilities. Wasn't there anyone better?"_

_"There were two." Martin's face was impassive, but Honor thought that, below all that indifference, there was anger and frustration. "One was exiled. One went mad."_

_"So Luke wasn't even second in line. He was third in line."_

_"Luke is still far stronger than you give him credit for. If his downfall is that he loves too strongly to easily forgive betrayal, then I accept that. There are worse weaknesses to have." Martin's eyes narrowed, and Honor flinched. "Pride, for example. And fear."_

_"Pride?" Honor snorted. "You think I'm proud?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Proud of **what**? Proud of **who**? I've got nothing left. I've got **no one**."_

_"You're proud of yourself. You're proud of your ideals. You're proud because you've got your back to the wall and a knife at your throat, and you've got nothing else to cling to."_

_Honor tried to interrupt, and Martin made a sharp gesture with his paw, cutting him off. "And you're **afraid** because you're don't know how much longer you can stay this way. You see Kydin, and you see Luke. You see yourself in them, and you're afraid that someday you **won't** defend creatures like Vix. You're afraid that you can understand Kydin's reasoning and sympathize with Luke's lack of action, and you're afraid that, someday, you'll be just like them."_

_Honor's jaw tightened. His eyes narrowed. "Anyone ever tell you that you talk more than you think?"_

_"Ooh." A voice, dry and dark, cooed from somewhere off to his left. "I **like** this one, mousie."_

_"You like him now." The mouse said. "Give him time."_

_"Time?" A ferret appeared, forming out of mist and stray thoughts. "Are you forgetting what time I **come** from, otter? I know what he's like later."_

_The mouse sighed. "Did I even invite you here?"_

_"Of course not." The ferret sounded offended. "I wouldn't've come, if you had."_

_"Leave, ferret." The mouse made a dismissive gesture with his paw. "This conversation is-"_

_"Mopey and depressing and confrontational." The ferret said and moved forward, stepping between Honor and Martin. He walked towards the otter, stopping just within of paws reach. And then he stared. His head canted to one side, a vague bemused smile tipped one corner of his mouth up, and he stared._

_"Fatefiend..." The mouse said, his tone warning and weary._

_"Listen up, mate." And, with that, the ferret slapped Honor. Hard. Across the face._

_Honor flinched back, his paw instinctively going up to his face. "What are you **doing**?" He demanded._

_"Stop being an idiot." Fatefiend snapped. "Kydin's about to **explode**, he's so full of angst, and you-**you're** moping cuz, turns out, you're better than everyone else. Listen, mate, you're a damn **hero**. Got it? Of course, you're gonna do the right thing. What're you so upset about, anyway?"_

_Honor worked his jaw, still glaring. And then, sulking and sullen, he answered. "Luke's supposed to be the hero."_

_"No. Wrong." Fatefiend shook his head sharply. "**Luke** is a warrior. **You** are a hero. Now, Luke's used to be a hero, and he's gonna be again soon enough, but he's not right now. He's just a warrior. That's his whole...thing. He can never choose between just killin' everyone and gettin' the whole mess over with or doin' what's right only to see evil spring back again."_

_"Fatefiend!" Martin interrupted, sounding frustrated and irritated. "Is this necessary?"_

_"Oh, shut it, mousie. Like **your** method was workin' all that gloriously."_

_The mouse closed his eyes tightly and seemed to be talking to himself. It took Honor a moment to realize he was counting down from ten, over and over again._

_"Anyway, listen. **Your** horrible tragic flaw is that you've always gotta do the right thing. Always. It's kinda pathetic, really. You should **see** all the trouble it lands in you later." The ferret blinked. "Well, alright. So you** will **see. But you probably won't think it's as funny as I do."_

_"Fatefiend." Martin sounded very agitated, indeed. "If you do not leave **right now**...so help me, I **will** send you to hell."_

_"Oh, you will not." Fatefiend shrugged off the threat rather easily. "Anyway, youngling, listen up. Life's not as bad as it seems, and while it's just about as lonely at the pinnacle of upstanding moral integrity as you think it is...well, someone's gotta be up there. And, look at it this way. Right now you've still got Luke and Kydin and all the rest. Soon enough, you won't. Stop moping. Enjoy the company while it lasts."_

_"Well, **that** makes me want to wake up in the morning." Honor said. "You're saying all my friends are going to leave me?"_

_"Other way 'round, mate." Fatefiend said. "Other way round."_

_"I see we're going to have another little chat about telling the future, Fatefiend." Martin sounded like he was trying to talk through clenched teeth. _

_Fatefiend grimaced. "Oh, won't **that** be fun?" He glanced back at Honor, studying him thoughtfully and thoroughly, and, for some reason, Fatefiend thought he saw something like bitterness or sorrow. "You know," he said, "you look a lot like-"_

_"**Fatefiend**!" _

_The ferret winced. "I wasn't gonna say the **name**, Martin." But it sounded like a lie. It sounded like he knew damn well he was going to say the name. He sighed. "See you in a few seasons, hero."_

_And, with that, Honor found himself alone. _

…

They landed at Shray, and Kydin could feel them staring at him. Watching him. Studying him. Waiting for some kind of reaction. Waiting for some kind of breakdown.

And he knew he would give it to them eventually. He could feel it brewing up slowly in his guts, a thunderstorm of bile and blackness. He was breathing too quickly and too shallowly, and he couldn't stop it. His muscles alternated between feeling too tight and too loose, but he always felt _wrong_. He was watching the dock and the slowly growing gathering of beasts with something a little like curiosity and a lot like dread. Something...something was horribly wrong.

He could feel it, like blood dribbling down the back of his neck. He could taste it, like vomit and honey. He could hear it, like the soft whisper of the loved and the lost.

Something was wrong.

"Is that Riya?" Aderyn stood beside him, close enough to catch him if he should fall and far enough away to leap out of range if he should take offense at this babying.

And, yes. Yes, it was Riya.

But it was Riya ten pounds too thin and ten hours too tired. She stared up at the Kydin's ship with bags under her eyes and her lips pressed tightly together. She stood there, waiting. Waiting for him to reach the climb off his ship and come onto her dock. And, because he was all out of defiance and all out of hope, he obliged her.

Kydin reached the edge dock and stood there, watching as Riya approached him. Her eyes were on the planks she trod, and her shoulders were drawn back like she was marching to the gallows. When she finally looked up at him, she did so as if she were afraid of what she would see, and, in an instant, their grief flashed between them.

"The king?" Kydin asked.

Riya nodded slowly, her eyes locked on Kydin's face. "Cyma?" She asked, and that one word was so delicate and dark and already so damn nostalgic that Kydin felt his breath catch in his throat. He made a quiet strangling noise and coughed because if he didn't give himself something to do, he was going to scream.

"Oh, Kydin…" And something sweet and horrified was in her voice now. "I had no idea."

"No idea?" He asked. His voice was that mockery again. That low, tight, growling threat. "No idea of what?"

"I didn't know you loved her."

And Kydin was coughing again. But it wasn't enough. Something was wrong with his stomach. It seemed to have fled his body and was falling down, down into the depths of the sea.

He turned away and went to the edge of the dock. He kneeled down and fought against the nausea in his guts. But he lost. He was always lost now.

And, when there was nothing left inside him to give to the sea, he wondered if he should just lean forward and fall. He was weak enough now that he would drown, but even that simply act of will was beyond him. He collapsed to the side and felt himself fading away.

…

_"How long has he been like this?"_

_"Since she died."_

_"Her death did this to him?"_

_"That and Vix's betrayal."_

…

Honor was lounging in a booth and getting drunk in the part of Shray he had been expressly forbidden to visit. He had little to do on the island and had long ago grown bored of the few amusements Aderyn had allowed him. So, here he was, with the sole intent of getting himself involved in a fight so that he could just let himself go and _hurt_ something, when a stoat slid into the bench across from and gave him an intense stare. "You," the stoat said, "are the otter everyone's talking about, aye? The jester?"

Honor blinked. "What?" He asked, his instincts and mouth moving just a little too slowly. He stumbled over the word a bit but couldn't really being himself to care.

"From Kydin's crew?" The stoat clarified.

Honor nodded slowly. "Oh." He said. "Yes. But what's this about a jester?"

"It's the cute little nickname they've assigned to you." The stoat informed him. "It's been around for awhile, actually, but that little incident last night only made it all the more popular."

Honor blinked and rubbed sluggishly at his eyes. "Last night?" He asked, struggling to remember.

"When you cracked Oakin's skull open?" The stoat was watching him too closely, too intently. "And then slit his face open so that he seemed to grin even while dead?"

Honor stared. "I did...I did _what_?" He'd been wondering why he'd woken up this morning with blood on his paws.

The stoat sighed. "You are spectacularly drunk." He said.

"A bit more sober than I _have_ been." Honor said defensively.

"Not nearly sober enough. Your captain needs you, you know."

"Needs me for what?" Honor demanded, bitter and belligerent.

"To look out for him. To watch over him. 'e's the king now, and he's weaker than he's ever been before. Everyone on this damn island is struggling to come up with a way to use him while he's too weak to fight 'em off."

"Kydin will be fine." Honor said. "Kydin is...is always fine."

"Kydin has never been like this. Trust me, little idiot, I've known Kydin my entire _life_. He's never been this weak."

"Well, he's got Riya." Honor said stubbornly. "She's his friend, isn't she?"

"Oh, aye. She is, and she loves him more than I can rightly understand, but she's the one that stands to lose the most right now."

"What?" Honor straightened. He didn't know her well; he hardly knew her at all. But he liked her. She'd saved him, once. "What d'you mean?"

The stoat sighed. "Look, when our kings die, we have a temporary government established. They're the Council, and their the closest descendants or chosen heirs of the previous Council. Usually, they only rule for the day or two it takes for the new king to be crowned. But this Council...well. They've been around for awhile, see, and they're lettin' the power get to their heads." He paused, fidgeted. "They're gonna run Riya outta Shray."

Honor blinked. "What?" He asked. "_Why_?"

"They say she's got too much influence over Kydin. They say he does whatever she asks. They say...they say he's her puppet."

"Well, _obviously_." Honor said. "Because Kydin's shown such a tendency to blindly following others in the past."

"Aye, well, be that as it may, this is different. And the Council knows that. The old king forbade Riya the right to rule as sole sovereign, and the last thing this Council wants is for her to somehow manipulate herself into ruler anyway. They're going to run her outta here like they ran Ceran out. They'll banish her, and she'll never captain another pirate ship again."

Honor stared at the mug in his paws. "For lawless pirates...your society certainly has a fair amount of ridiculous regulations."

"Aye, well...yes. We're quite particular about some things."

Honor sighed. "So, you want me to...what? Protect Kydin from everyone on the island?"

The stoat shrugged. "Just stand out in front of his door and look out-of-sorts. Your reputation is intimidating enough to keep out pretty much anyone now."

Honor stared dully at the tabletop before looking up at the stoat, his eyes looking somewhat alert for the first time. "Did I really bash someone's skull in?"

"Oh, aye." The stoat lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "But only after he slit a cub's throat for stealin' a bite to eat. You're quite the nightmare, otter. At least your mouse friend has the courtesy to leave his high an' mighty sense of justice as the pub's door."

Honor nodded slowly, sluggishly. "I'm doin' what's right, then?"

The stoat gave him a long look. "You really don't remember what you've been doing here?"

"I wake up with blood on my paws, and I can't recall if it's mine or someone else's."

"Well, it's someone else's. And, just between you, me, and the load of fools listenin' in on this conversation, you're only killin' those that deserve it."

Honor nodded again and closed his eyes. "Good." He said and shoved the mug away, letting it clatter to the floor. "Good."

…

"Kydin, I need you to do something for me."

Kydin swam up towards consciousness. After all, Cyma was dead and Vix was worse. All the loyalty in him belonged to Riya now. Anything she asked, he would do. Anything, everything. He didn't have it in him to survive the death of his last true connection.

"What is it, Riya?" He asked, looking up at her. She was sitting at his bedside, and she looked as if she had been crying.

Kydin wondered if everyone in the entire world had taken up crying lately.

"Kydin, I'm going to ask you to do something for me." Her voice was off somehow…controlled so carefully that it seemed to tremble like a fist clenched too tight. "And you're going to hate me for it."

"No, I won't." Kydin argued. "You're the last one left."

"Which only makes it worse. Because I know you're going to agree."

Kydin couldn't really comprehend her meaning right now. "What is it, Riya?"

"Kydin, they're exiling me. They think I have too much influence over you, that you'll take the throne and then just play the puppet king." She looked away. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning."

"No." He said, trying to sit up. "You can't."

"You can't stop it, Kydin. Not even as our future lord. I've been exiled by the Council."

"There has to _something_…"

She nodded slowly, and the look in her eyes was lonely and painful and so very faraway. "There is." She looked down at him, and he wondered if she was going to start crying again. "Kydin, I'd have to be crowned queen."

…

"He's doing _what_?" Aderyn demanded, her chair clattering to the floor as she leapt to her feet.

"He's marrying Riya." Nidal said, his eyes moving around the room the crew had begrudgingly gathered in. "They've just announced it." He paused, swallowed. "And word's gone out that, after the marriage ceremony, our crew is to...leave. We've been given some sort of assignment. It seems that Riya wants us as far away as possible for the first two seasons, at least."

"Oh, _damn _her!" Aderyn said and sat down quickly, hitting the floor with only a tad bit more grace than her chair. "She's not giving him any way out at all!"

"What?" Honor asked. "I don't understand. I thought...I thought, you know, he and Cyma were..."

"They were." Ladin said, and he was sharpening his dagger. "That thrice-damned manipulative hell spawn. She's using him."

"She's using _him_?" Luke demanded. "For what? Has no one explained to her what kind of mate he'd make?"

"Mouse, listen closely." Aderyn's voice was tight and furious. "Riya was the old king's daughter. The throne should have been hers. But it went to Kydin. She still wants it, apparently, and she's the only friend he has left. She asked, he obliged."

"You can't know that."

"I can." Aderyn snapped. "I do."

"How?" He challenged.

"How else could it have happened? You think Kydin woke up out of one of those day-long naps of his and got it into his head to marry someone he doesn't even see as truly female?"

Luke paused, frowned. "Maybe not," he admitted, "but I don't see him just giving in to someone else's demands. He's a bit of a bastard, as I recall."

"Kydin's not the vulnerable sort." Ladin said. "But he's vulnerable now."

"He'd slit his wrists if she asked him, too." Nidal said.

"She's all he's got left." Aderyn said, her voice cold and venomous.

"Well..." Luke hesitated. He thought of the way Kydin had held Cyma's paw. He thought of the way the otter had screamed and cursed and drank and tried so damn hard to hold together. He thought of Kydin, and, for the first time, he felt something strong like sympathy and quiet like grief. He realized that he admired the otter, for his spirit if not for his actions, and he realized that the whole damn world was aligning itself against him.

"And now we know he's stayin'." Ladin said. "Now we know he's not gonna run."

"There was a chance he would?" Honor asked, looking up.

"Oh, aye. A big chance. He'd play king for awhile, lead us against the Nameless One if it struck his fancy, and then he'd be off on his merry way, sailin' the seas for months at a time."

"Well, if he left a steward, why would that be so horribly tragic?" Luke asked. "If he left in times of peace, why would it matter if he wasn't there to overse the details?"

The pirates all turned to stare at him as if he'd just asked if the sky was blue or green.

"Luke..." Aderyn said, "Has no one told you?"

"Has no one told me what?"

"Once Kydin takes a queen, he can never again take to the seas in times of peace. Once he's married, he can't so much as ride on a ship unless he's going to war. He will _never_ be a captain again." She lifted one shoulder in a hopeless, helpless shrug. "Riya fears banishment, and so she's making him marry her. But she's banishing him from what he loves. The king can only ever sail if he's searching for a queen or if he's going to battle. Kydin's last way out was the queen excuse. Without that, he will be stuck on this island for the rest of his life."

"It's one of our oldest laws." Nidal said. "It's one that no king can break, and no Council can change. If Kydin marries Riya, he will be a prisoner here."

Luke thought of Kydin and the way the otter loved his freedom and his crew and his sunsets, and something small and compact and mostly ignored burst open in his chest, and Luke wanted to kill.

…

"Why are you doing this?" Riya looked up at the question. The mouse in front of her didn't look all that intimidating, except for the sword at his waist and the judgment in his eyes.

"Why am I doing what?"

"You know Kydin, don't you? I've heard it said that you are his friend. His last surviving childhood friend." He tilted his head and eyed her searchingly. "Why are you killing him?"

"I'm not killing him." Riya argued instinctively and then sighed, shaking her head. "Mouse, I don't know who you are, but-"

"My name is Luke." He announced, and Riya flinched. _Cyma's friend... _"And I knew Cyma. We broke out of prison together. She showed me this island and made sure I wasn't as disgusted by it as I probably should be."

"Shray is-"

He ignored her completely. "I don't like Kydin. I hated him, once. But I liked Cyma, and she liked Kydin. So I tried to stay out of his way, tried to ignore him. But you can't ignore someone like Kydin. Either you kill him or you live with him, and I had to live with him. As on outsider looking in, I picked up on things. I can tell you that there are two ways to kill an otter like Kydin. Either you can destroy the few creatures he actually cares for or you can take away his freedom. You, pirate, are doing both."

Riya stared at him, transfixed by the look in his eyes. She had been given many hateful looks, many spiteful glares, but never a look full of such quiet condemnation, such gentle damning. It seemed to send a dagger straight through her heart, and she had a bit of trouble reminding her heart how to beat.

"You think I don't know that?" She carefully set the knife she had been sharpening down on the table and stood up. "You think I don't know _damn_ well what I'm doing? You have known him a few months. I've known him all my _life_, mouse."

"Then why are you doing this?"

Riya's eyes closed and then, finally, she admitted it. "For the pirates."

"You're _sacrificing_ him?"

She nodded. "Yes. I'm sacrificing him."

Her eyes opened when something grabbed her shoulders and shoved her up against the wall. She realized it was the mouse. There was nothing gentle about the damning in his eyes now. He looked about ready to rip her apart. "You can't _do_ that!" He hissed. "You don't have the right to _chose_ something like that."

She glared at him. "What exactly do you think a queen_ does_, mouse?"

"So that's it? You've got it into your head already that you have the right to play with the world as you see fit? You've decided that we're all just your toys, and you haven't even been _crowned_ yet?" He shook his head, his upper lip drawing upwards in a snarl. "You're disgusting." He let her go and moved to walk out the door.

"What else am I supposed to do?" She wasn't used to needing justification, especially from someone she hardly knew. But, somehow, a note of begging entered her voice. "They're not...they're not _good_ creatures but that doesn't mean they aren't _alive_. If they're nothing else, they're _mine_. My responsibility now. I _won't_ abandon them to Hikin. So, yes, I'm breaking Kydin. Yes, I'm killing my childhood friend, and _yes_, I'm disgusting. But I _have_ to. Don't you understand? If you can't save _everyone_, you save who you can."

Luke stopped and seemed to consider her words for a long time. Then, slowly, he turned back to face her. "You pirates," he muttered, "you just can't _live_ in a black and white world, can you?"

She frowned, confused. "What?"

"Where I come from, it's simple." He sighed and leaned up against the door he had been about to walk through. "There are the vermin, and there are the woodlanders. There are the evil, and there are the good. No middle ground, no lapse of gray. It's all simple, all clean and _easy_."

Riya stared, mouth hanging open. "But that...that's _horrifying_." She whispered.

Luke looked startled. "How? How is _that_ horrifying?"

"Because there's no...there's no _freedom_. You're all _slaves_ to your own traditions. If you don't honestly _chose_ to be good, if you're only doing the right thing because that's all you know how to do, you're not _good_. You're _brainwashed_!"

Luke shook his head. "This from the otter who is about to sacrifice her oldest friend for the sake of those she admits aren't any good."

"I never said _that_. I said they weren't 'good,' as in the allegiance, as in the classification." She fell back into her chair and shook her head. "But, hell, mate. It's just logic. I need to stay here so I can look after the pirates. Kydin won't. Kydin probably won't survive the next few seasons. If I left them run me off, if I let them banish me, I'd be giving the throne to Hikin, and d'you have any idea what he would _do_ with it? Even if you don't care about my pirates, you care about your woodlanders. That fox would join with the Nameless One. He would kill all of us, once he got bored of our screamin'."

"How can you condemn Hikin for killing? Have you not done the same?"

She snorted. "Haven't you?"

Luke looked momentarily uncomfortable. "Yes. But I regretted it."

"Did you?" She tilted her head thoughtfully, picking up her dagger. "Did you, really?"

"Life has value. Even when it belongs to a weasel, or a rat."

"Now, see mate, that's not regret. That's guilt. There's a difference, you know. Regret is looking at the body of the creature you killed and honestly wishing you could take it back. Give them their life back, even at the expense of yours. That's not what you feel. You feel _guilty_; you feel like you've done something wrong. It's not something you necessarily want to fix, but it's something you figure you probably shouldn't go around boastin' about."

"At least I feel _something_ when I kill." Luke's posture, leaning against the door with one crossed over his chest and the other gripping the hilt of his sword, chin up and eyes questioning, seemed to shriek of both a challenge and a deep confusion. "What do you feel? You're killing Kydin. Do you even _care_?"

Riya went perfectly still. "You know what I hate about your kind, mouse?"

"My kind?" An eyebrow rose politely, though he didn't appear at all in the polite mood.

"Yes. Your _kind_. Your black and white _kind_. Your cult that runs rampant over this world." She stood up, still clutching the dagger. "I don't hate your bigotry. I don't hate your spite. I don't even hate your idiocy. I hate your _condescension._ I hate your patronizing _attitude_. I hate how you come in here, call me a coward, an idiot, and a murderer, and don't see anything wrong with it. I hate how you think we don't have _souls_."

"Look, pirate-"

"And what I hate worst of all? I hate how, if I had been born over in your world, if had lived there, and was sacrificing my friend for the good of _thousands_ over _there_, you would be trying to comfort me instead of condemning me."

Luke scowled at her. "It's not that simple." He argued. "I would _never_ sacrifice someone _else_ for something _I_ wanted."

"'_Wanted?_'" She practically shrieked. "I don't _want_ this. I _want_ to travel. I _want_ to discover islands, and see Salamandastron again. I _want_ to see _your_ home too, mouse. I want to see everything in the world. But what does it matter? What does it matter that I _want_ it? That I _love_ it? Love is nothing. It's just an emotion. We all have to grow up, mouse. I have to grow up and lead the pirates. Kydin does, too. And if it kills us both, what does it matter? The world needs leaders, Luke. And the only leaders you should ever trust are the types who don't want it, who _never_ wanted it. So that's what we are. So that's why we're here. But we _do not __**want**_ it!"

Luke stared at her for a long time, sizing up the depth of the agony in her eyes. Finally, silently, he seemed to accept it as enough. He looked away and frowned. "It doesn't have to be like this."

"No?" She snorted. "What else _could_ it be like?"

"It could be better. It's not like this at Redwall. We don't...there's no need to _kill_ ourselves over there."

"No?" She laughed and shook her head. "Well, if it's so wonderful there, why'd you leave? Why in the hell would you _leave_ someplace like that?"

"I got...it was-"

"Boring?" She grinned. "Confining? Please, Luke, don't patronize me. I'm not a cub, and I'm not an idiot. I would never play dress-up for your woodlander friends, and I would never pretend to be happy in their prison. There's more to life than pretending to be alive."

Luke shook his head. "It's not like that." He objected. "You've grown so used to this life that you think a life without pain isn't real. You can't be happy, so you've decided the rest of us are pretending."

"Aren't you?" She smirked. "C'mon, Luke, tell me the truth. When was the last time you were _really_ happy?"

Luke sighed. "I was not born in Redwall, Riya."

"So...what? Redwall isn't some magical place that can cure us all of our wounds? It can't erase all these scars?" She gestured at herself, at the scars that outlined her past. She was mocking him, and he knew it. "Don't preach happiness to me, mouse. We've all gotta grow up sometime."

Luke shifted uneasily, all of his condemnation gone. "That," he muttered, "is sick. How can you believe you'll never be happy? Who would choose a _life_ like that?"

She shrugged. "Oh, I believe I can be happy. All I have to do is walk away. Get on my ship and never look back. I could be _happy_, Luke, or I could save those I'm responsible for. If it really comes down it to, their lives are infinitely more important than my _happiness_, and it _has_ come down to it."

"So that's it, then? You've giving up for _pirates_?"

"They're not just _pirates_, damn it!" She snarled at him now, her paw clenching around her dagger. "They're _alive_! They _breathe_! They dream, they fight, they _live_! What makes _them_ any different from _you_? _You're_ worth it. _They're_ worth it. _Everyone_ is worth it!"

"Everyone but you?" Luke asked. "Everyone deserves to be saved but you? You and Kydin? Somehow, you both deserve to die while everyone else gets to live?"

"It's just..." Her anger fled, and she seemed to sag. "It's just a matter of numbers, really. Two versus thousands? There's no trouble deciding, really." Her eyes closed and she seemed, for a moment, to struggling to rein in her emotions. "It's just...it's just that I'm so _selfish_. I can't stop myself wanting to run away. I keep giving myself reasons to leave, and it's getting harder and harder to say no. The fact that doing this will ruin Kydin...that's something I just can't get myself to stop screaming about..."

She looked up at him, eyes glinting. "So don't come here again, telling me how it's gonna kill Kydin. I know. I know damn well what it will do to him, and I know he'd never do it if I don't do it now, when he's still reeling and so easily manipulated. Kydin would never break a promise. Not to me. So I have to make him promise, now. Before he remembers that he knows better. Does that make me a monster? I don't know. But I _do_ know that it's something I have to do. So I'll do it."

"And you think it's worth it?" Luke's expression was unreadable now, but if she'd been looking, she probably could have seen the sad, listless look in his eyes. "You know he'll hate you as soon as he comes back to himself, don't you? He'll hate you, and you'll have sent away his crew. He won't break his word, and he'll be stuck. With nowhere to go. With no one to go _to_. And he'll hate you for it."

"I know." She nodded slowly, eyes flickering open as she finally sat back down. "I know, and I wonder. I wonder, occasionally, if it's all _really_ worth it?"

She looked up at him, eyes sparkling with unshed tears and teeth half-bared in a snarl. "Do you know if everyone is worth Kydin? Do you know if the _world_ is worth the soul of one good otter?"

Luke thought a long time before he answered. "No. I don't know. But I think that's how these things go."

She nodded and blinked slowly. When she looked at him again, everything she was feeling was hidden behind a reckless grin. "Aw, well, that's it then. Gotta keep the world spinnin', aye? What else are we gonna do?" A flash of something behind her bright eyes, a deep world-weary ache that Luke doubted would ever go away. From now on, she had resigned herself to a fate she knew she would be miserable in. The smile on her face seemed sick, when paired with those deeply troubled eyes.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Honor could best him with the sword. He could beat him with the knives. But Ark won every time when they fight with the axes, so it was the axes they used.

A small crowd of local cubs gathered to watch the two of them every day, sitting on the wall that fenced in the back of Ark's large house and staring at the dripping sweat and shining metal. At first, Honor didn't like it. He objected to being watched, to being idolized. Then he rounded a corner at two in the morning to see a cub slipping free from an incredibly intoxicated weasel exactly the same way he'd escaped Ark earlier that day. He didn't object afterwards, and, every day for a few hours, he would stay and teach the cubs while Ark's servant handed out water that was cold enough to make Honor's stomach flip over and his mouth sting.

It wasn't a good life; it wasn't a good way to waste the two weeks it took for the Council to stop their whining and let Kydin marry whoever the hell he wanted to.

But it was good enough that Honor found himself relaxing, regrouping. Remembering why he liked life and remembering why he wanted to protect the lives of others.

And so he suffered through the humiliation of losing to the stoat over and over again because he wanted to learn to be better, to be stronger. He wanted to save however many he could, and Ark was teaching him yet another way to kill everyone he had to.

So when he found himself sprawled on the hot ground with sand sticking to his sweat-covered body, chest heaving desperately from the heat and the fall, he knew better than to be angry. But he was still unhealthily grateful, and just a little bit spitefully relieved, to see Kydin standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and his scowl fixed on Ark.

"I heard rumors that you were beatin' up my littlest crew member." Kydin drawled. "But I thought, surely, you'd take your vengeance on _me_ for burning that ship of yours. Honor had nothing to do with it."

"Oh, aye." Ark retorted, still breathing heavily from the fight. "But, then, I knew _you'd_ never have the courage to face me. Every time you land on this island, you scurry off before I can get t'you."

"Well, I'm not scurrying anywhere, now." Kydin informed him. He arched an eyebrow. "Care to try and get to me now?"

Ark snorted and threw down the axe. It flipped end-over-end and embedded itself in the ground. "How did you want to do this, Kydin?" The stoat's eyes were narrowed, challenging, and it occurred to Honor to wonder if these two were going to kill each other. "Swords? Knives?"

Kydin's smile was thin and cruel. His paws tightened into fists. "Oh, no need for sharp metal, mate. Let's just beat each other senseless with our own strength, aye?"

"The prince fight without his knives or sword?" Ark made a face of extreme disbelief. "D'you even remember _how_?"

"I remember enough to kill _you_." Kydin retorted. "Now, are we gonna fight or did you plan on talkin' your way outta this?"

"That's your skill, Kydin." Ark retorted. "Never mine."

They fought then, and they fought like savages. They fought like demons. They fought with a wild, reckless, willfully destructive hate that left them both bloody and breathless, dripping sweat and spitting blood.

They fought like Vix and Kydin had fought once, but with less symmetry, less understanding.

Honor watched, his paws clenched in fists and his mouth twitching in sympathy as he watched two of his idols hitting each other over and over again. He watched Kydin take a brutal punch to the throat followed lightning-quick by an elbow to the temple. He watched Ark dodge too slow and receive a quick kick to the knee that made a sharp _pop_ sound and left the stoat on the ground, staring at the sky and clutching at his leg.

"Get up." Kydin's voice was low-pitched and growling. Ark didn't even try to stand, just rolled on the ground, writhing. "Get _up_."

Ark didn't respond again, and Kydin kicked him twice in the ribs, his leg snapping back and then forwards, slamming against the stoat's chest with enough force to lift Ark off the ground.

"Get _up_, Ark!" There was something wrong with Kydin's voice. It was half-choked with rage and half-choked with something else entirely. His eyes were intense and too bright, like he was staring directly into the sun. "I need this." He growled out, kneeling down beside Ark and clenching his paws in Ark's shirt. "So get _up_." He dragged the stoat to his feet, and Ark swayed dangerously for a second before wearily meeting Kydin's eyes.

Whatever he saw there must have meant something to him because, after a deep sigh, he headbutted Kydin in the face.

They fought again. Kydin seemed, at first, to be holding back. But his control shattered early on and, towards the end, he had Ark on the ground and was hitting him in the face as hard as he could and as often as was possible.

"Kydin." Honor's voice was too quiet, shaking. "_Kydin_, damn it! Stop it!"

Kydin looked up at him, but he didn't stop. There was desperation in his eyes and a horrible, dangerous _nothingness_. It set Honor's teeth on edge. It made him nervous and skittish. And it _hurt_. It hurt in a vague, undefinable way like watching someone else's bone snap hurts. It hurt like watching a cub's throat being slit.

Honor was across the courtyard and tackling Kydin before he realized what was happening.

And then they were fighting, but it wasn't like they'd ever fought before. It was frightening to realize Kydin had never really fought as hard as he could. It was terrifying to realize that Kydin had always been looking after him.

They fought crazily, cruelly. Honor sliced Kydin's face with his claws; Kydin ripped Honor's arm open with his teeth. They hit each other with their fists, their knees, their elbows. Pain was constant, but it was all moving too fast. He couldn't concentrate. He didn't really have time to feel.

All he knew was that one second he was rushing Kydin and the next he was on the ground with bloody lips, choking on his own blood.

"Damn it!" Kydin bellowed, winded but still not ready to stop fighting. "Why does everyone keep _falling_?"

"Oh, fine." Luke's voice was cool and unimpressed. He stepped into the courtyard, stretched his arms, and then lunged at Kydin.

Honor got the hell out of the way.

In the end it took five hours, Luke, Ark, Honor, Aderyn, Nidal, Ladin, Carden, and Riya. In the end, it nearly killed all of them. But, in the end, Kydin was calm and (relatively) complacent and he didn't look on the verge of crying or slitting someone's throat. They were all sprawled on the courtyard dirt, and no one was feeling particularly triumphant because, in the end, it had taken Honor, Aderyn, and Ark all working together to subdue Kydin and, even then, they had all sustained some new injuries that none of them were feeling all that proud of.

"Never seen anythin' like it." Luke was saying quietly, still rather disliking the idea of sitting up.

"Like what?" Honor asked because no one else seemed likely to.

"That wasn't even the bloodwrath." Luke's voice was murmuring and soft, and it occurred to Honor that Luke may still be recovering from the many times Kydin had slammed his head into the ground. "That was...that was somethin' else entirely."

"Aw, well, only heroes get the bloodwrath, mate." Kydin sounded normal, sounded _sane_ for the first time in far, far too long. Honor tried to ignore the way a tight knot in his stomach loosened just the tiniest bit.

"Then what _was_ that?"

Kydin snorted. "Righteous indignation."

Luke lifted himself up on his elbow and peered over at Kydin, and Honor rolled his head so he could see the look passing between them. He looked away quickly, though, because he wasn't sure he liked what he saw. The world was confusing enough without Luke pitying a pirate lord and Kydin hating him for it.

"Oy, Ark." Kydin said, and he jostled the stoat with his elbow.

"Do that again, Kydin, an' I'll pay Riya to strangle you in your sleep."

"Hmph" Kydin retorted cleverly. "You even awake over there?"

"No." Ark sounded sleepy and wounded and vaguely petulant. "Mind lettin' me stay that way?"

"You know you're our Lead Guard, right?" Kydin asked. "You figured that one out yet?"

"I had an inkling." Ark said.

And Honor stood up and walked away because the idea of Kydin appointing someone his Lead Guard made this whole damn mess entirely too real. He limped out of the courtyard and headed directly for the pub.

"We need to talk."

Honor looked up at him. "Oh, aye?" He said. "'bout what?"

"'bout the fact that you're gonna go gallivanting off with that mouse hero." Kydin said. "'bout the fact that, maybe, you shouldn't."

Honor crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the otter that had just walked into his rooms. Kydin was thin. Thinner than he had been, anyway, and that probably had something to do with the fact that the prince hadn't been awake long enough to eat a full meal in nearly a month. But there was something else...something _deeper_. There was something about Kydin that said he could eat for days, for weeks, for seasons, and never truly be healthy again.

It took Honor awhile to realize he was seeing defeat in Kydin's eyes, and, upon recognizing it, he decided it wasn't flattering.

"Seems like we're all doin' things we shouldn't be doing." Honor mused. "You're taking up a crown. Riya's taking up you..."

"Oh, clever. Clever little fool." Kydin smiled at him, but it was tainted, and Honor didn't care for it. "But, in all and utter solemnity, Honor, you should leave Redwall Abbey be."

"Oh?" Honor arched a brow. "And why's that?"

Kydin lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "You're meant for more." He said. "Redwall is Luke's territory. Let him haunt it if he likes. You, if you're dead set on heroics, could go and be heroic where they really need you."

"Now, see, _I_ thought," Honor drawled, "that you wanted me to be a pirate."

"Oh, damn, mate. Whatever made you think that? You'd be a _horrible_ pirate." Kydin made a face of extreme disgust. "Not to mention," he added in an entirely different tone, "you'd have to be on someone _else's_ crew, and quite a lot of my fellow captains favor the whip as an appropriate punishment for bein' a mouthy little bastard."

Honor blinked. "You're worried I can't hold my tongue?"

"I _know_ you can't hold your tongue." Kydin said.

"I could, if I wanted." Honor shrugged. "Perhaps I want to be a pirate."

"For my sake, don't."

"For _your_ sake?"

"Well, aye. How easy d'you think it would be for a landlocked little bastard like myself to find and throttle the idiot captain that dared to get you killed?"

Honor snorted. "Careful, Kydin. It almost sounds as if you cared."

Kydin snorted. "Don't want all my hard work to go to waste. I spent quite a lot of time trainin' you, after all. Not to mention saving you from certain death."

Honor sighed and took a seat on the edge of his bed. "So, if I can't be a pirate and I can't go to Redwall, where am I supposed to go?"

"Out on your own." Kydin said. "Find someone that needs savin' and save 'em. It's not hard. Trust me, there'll always be somebody that needs a good rescuing."

"And you think there won't be someone to save at Redwall?"

"Oh, aye. I imagine there will be. But Luke's reasonably competent. He can manage it on his own."

Honor shifted, frowned. "And what if...what if I don't _want_ to be a hero anymore? What if I want to stay here on Shray and drink and fight and play cards with Ark until I die?"

Kydin leaned against the doorframe and fixed Honor with a look that had absolutely not cheer in it. "Then I'll string you up and gut you." He said. "I've seen enough tragedy, Honor, without adding your wasted potential onto the list."

"My wasted potential?" Honor demanded incredulously. "What potential? The potential to get even _more_ creatures I care for killed?"

Kydin made a noise of disgust deep in his throat. "Oy. None of those were your fault. Your dead family has nothin' to do with you. It was their time, mate. Simple as that. And you should just be damn glad that _you_ were spared."

"Spared for what?" Honor demanded. "Spared _why_?"

"I can't tell you that, you little idiot, and it's not a question you should be askin'. Fate's a drunken whore playin' dice. She does what she wants, and it has little to nothing to do with you. Don't blame yourself for surviving. Blame the Nameless One for killin' the rest of 'em."

Honor sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "I'm tired, Kydin."

"Then take a damn nap."

"No, I mean, I'm _tired_. I'm tired of trying to figure out who's evil and why. I'm tired of having to second-guess everything I do. I'm tired of doing the right thing, and I'm tired of being tired. And I'm tired of missing my family. I'm...I'm just tired."

Kydin snorted. "If you're lookin' for friendly compassion and fatherly advice, you're talkin' to the wrong creature. Go find Luke if you want reassurance."

Honor rolled his eyes. "What're you going to do, Kydin? When you're stuck on this island for the rest of your life?"

A grimace of distaste passed quickly over Kydin's face. "Oh, don't worry about me, mate. I've always managed to get by. You do the best you can, and, if that's not good enough, you just stop giving a damn about what's good enough."

Honor glanced up at Kydin, and the realization that he was going to _miss_ this bastard struck suddenly and strongly, right behind his heart and halfway up his throat. He stared for a second and then looked down at the ground. By the time he looked back up, Kydin was gone.

The crew had gathered together with Ark and some of his friends at the usual pub. They were all still sore from the fight earlier and so were behaving themselves rather well. At least until Ladin burst into the building, leaped up onto a table, and came bounding across the room like the Nameless One was at his heels.

"He's burning it!" Ladin yelled, eyes wide and more panicked than Honor ever remembered seeing. "He's _burning_ it!"

"Who?" Aderyn demanded, leaping out of her chair.

"Burning _what_?" Ark asked at the exact same moment, standing quickly.

"_Kydin_!" Ladin bellowed as if it should be obvious. "He's burning the damn _ship_!"

"He's doing _**what**_?" Aderyn's hissed.

"Burning it!" Ladin yelled. "He's _burning_ it!"

Aderyn sat down. She stared at the air in front of her, eyes wide and mouth open.

Carden shook his head. "He's gone mad." He's said ruefully, doubtfully, as if he wasn't sure he liked the idea that Kydin could become anymore insane than he already was.

"No, he hasn't." Aderyn retorted.

"He's _burning_ the _ship_." Carden snapped back, as if that were proof enough of insanity.

"Well, how d'you think he'd keep himself on this damn island if he _didn't_ burn it?" Aderyn hissed, and her eyes closed quickly, brutally. "Honor," she said, her voice remarkably steady when compared to her trembling paws, "order us another round, aye?"

Honor looked at the crew for a long moment, taking in the hysteria in Carden's face and the guilt in Aderyn's and the shame in Nidal's. And then he turned around and walked towards the bar, deciding that, yes. He could most definitely use a drink.

Kydin stood on the shoreline with the scent of charred wood strong in his nostrils. His ship, his beautiful, powerful, _loyal_ ship, lay in blackened remnants before him, like the corpse of a loved one, scattered across the sand. It lay there, broken and beseeching, and it hurt all the worse because this had been his choice and his actions. The paws that had set fire to the wood ran along what was left of the mast, and if they trembled just a little bit, well...no beast was around to see. No one would ever know.

He swallowed once and stepped away, his eyes going to the horizon. The sun was setting, slow and bloody, and he wondered what kind of world it would find when it rose. He wondered who he would be, then, with a marriage and a crowning before noon, and he wondered who Riya would be. Everything was changing too much and too fast, and Kydin felt tired and feeble as a newborn. He didn't have the strength to keep his friends the way they had once been; he didn't have the power to hold onto what he wanted.

So he had watched it as it burned, burned to nothingness and sorrow.

And he did this alone, because he had no one left. Cyma had died with him kneeling at her side, feeling her pulse in her paw as it slowly faltered and slowly faded away. Riya had changed, adapted, and the she-otter with the lifted chin and emotionless eyes wasn't anything like the cheerfully abusive and casually violent cub he'd grown up with. And Vix...Vix had betrayed him to protect his son, and Kydin...

Kydin missed his own father.

He turned to the sea, to the waves and the tides, to all the mother he had ever known, and, with eyes both too bright and too cold, he waded out into the waters.

The ocean hissed around him, dragging against his skin, pulling him deeper as if tugging him gently into an embrace. The water ran cool and comforting against him, and an ache, deep and fierce, emanated from whatever soul he had left. The sea, the ocean. His mother, his nurturer, his guardian. The force of nature that had kept him safe when his father was gone, had surrounded him and safeguarded him for seasons.

And he hadn't expected it to hurt this much or this strongly. It felt like his heart was being ripped ever-so-slowly from his chest, and he set his jaw and narrowed his eyes because it was all he knew to do.

And he could taste the plea for help on the tip of his tongue, feel it crawling around in the back of his throat like a worm, feel it fluttering to be fee from the pit of his stomach. Gods, he wanted so much to beg. To plead. To do _anything_. Anything that could take this back, make it somehow different and smaller and easier to swallow. Kydin was a proud otter. He had only ever answered to his father and to the pirate king, and now both of them were dead. Kydin was defiant and rebellious. He did not beg. He did not plead.

But he would. In an instant. In a heartbeat. He'd do anything. He just...he didn't want this. He didn't want to be this. He didn't want to be stuck on an island for the rest of his life, alone except for someone who had grown up beside him and then, somehow, grown beyond him. He barely knew Riya anymore. He certainly didn't _like_ this distant, calculating otter she'd become. He didn't want to marry her. He wasn't even sure he wanted to _know_ her.

But...but she was his friend. She had saved his life, and he had saved hers, and there had been times in the past where they'd saved each other from worse things than death. He didn't like her, and he certainly didn't love her. But he owed her and he respected her and maybe that would be enough.

Maybe. But probably not.

And he had to burn his ship because he knew how weak he truly was. Kydin could withstand torture, he could smile through broken bones, and he could hold his liquor like a god, but he was utterly incapable of withstanding his own restlessness. He would last a season, maybe two. And then he'd be off and running in his ship, sailing towards freedom, risking death and shirking responsibility, and Kydin was old enough now that, really, he should start growing up.

So he stood out there with the sea all around him, the taste of it on his tongue and the smell of it in his nostrils, and he told himself to say goodbye. But, when he opened his mouth, all that came out was a single word, sharp and strangled and _forceful_, erupting past his lips like it had been lying in wait, ready to spring as soon as his lips parted. "_Father_!" He said – screamed – and his jaw clamped shut instantly, his eyes narrowing, his paws clenching into fists.

A wave of self-loathing hit him, and he bowed his head. Here he was, screaming for his father to save him like a year-old cub, and it had been awhile since he tasted shame. He swallowed it down as best he could, but it just kept creeping back up. Especially since, no matter how vehemently he told himself it was stupid and immature and hopeless, a sad, lonely, childish part of him was waiting oh-so-trustingly for his father to answer.

But there was no answer. There never would be. As always, Kydin had to make his own decisions. No one was there to help him. There was no net to catch his fall. There was no one able or willing to come charging to his rescue.

He'd made his choices, and, if they damned him, well...that was his own fault.

But, still, that small part of him waited. Waited and hoped.

He waited a long time.

And then, with his shoulders set and his isolation proven a hundred times over, he turned his back on his father and his mother, and he went to his ship. He lay in the curled wreckage of what had once been the stern, and he closed his eyes, and he bargained with pretend deities because all the ones he had once considered true, all the ones he had ever believed in, had always let him down.

Honor stared up at Kydin and Riya. They sat up on the raised platform, perched on their twin thrones as the ancient ferret before them went on and on about their obligations, their innate perfection, and the history of pirate royalty.

And it occurred to Honor, as he looked at the pair of them, that their current postures embodied everything they were now and quite possibly everything they would be in the future.

Riya was sitting straight upon her throne, her posture and poise the very definition of perfect. Her eyes were pinned on the ferret and an expression of solemn understanding was plastered on her face. Occasionally, her eyes would dart over to Kydin, but he never met her gaze. And, sometimes, something like sorrow would slip onto her face. It wasn't easily seen, and Honor only noticed because he was in the front row. But, if you knew what to look for and were looking for it at exactly the right instant, you could see that, while she wanted to be queen, _had_ to be queen, she didn't want it under these circumstances. Something about her manner seemed to suggest that she wanted to get up and walk away.

_Everything_ in Kydin's manner suggested he wanted to get up and walk away. He lounged in the elaborate throne with one elbow propped up on one of the wooden arms, his head cupped in his paw. His legs were stretched out lazily, and, occasionally, he would slouch so low in the throne that he came of danger of slipping out of it entirely. He looked bored and uninterested, and the way his eyes kept narrowing every time the sun came out from behind the clouds told Honor quite clearly that he was hungover. He ignored Riya completely.

And it seemed to Honor that life was horrendously unfair and that it existed that way on purpose. Because Kydin had finally crawled out of his cave enough to fall in love and then she had died. And then, within a month, he was married to someone else, crewless, shipless, and forever chained to a crown he had always empathetically denied wanting.

It seemed the world had been waiting for seasons to catch Kydin when he was down and kick him until he'd never get back up again.

And it seemed like the cruelest thing possible, because this was _not_ who Kydin was. He was being forced into the role of the hero, and he was, at best, the pseudo-neutral party with mostly decent intentions. He'd said he'd found his salvation at sea, and now he was landlocked for the rest of his life. It was a joke, but Honor couldn't figure out who could ever find it funny.

And he wondered what kind of sick world handed out happy endings to everyone but those who truly needed them. He wondered why so many heroes, who were so willing to die for their causes, escaped certain death and managed to save their closest friends as well, while creatures like Kydin, who did the best he could with who he was, were mistreated and abused and, ultimately, mocked by Fate. He wondered, but he just didn't understand.

There was a part of Honor that knew exactly what kind of creature he was supposed to be. Honor wasn't stupid; he knew a hero when he saw one, which was precisely why he'd stopped looking in mirrors lately. And the part of him that had accepted his future was the part of him that was most vehemently disgusted by this turn of events. This wasn't right; this wasn't _justified_. Honor was willing to give up the happy ending that being a hero qualified him for if it could just go to Kydin. Because as cruel as the prince was and as insane as he sometimes seemed to be, there was a part of him that was fierce and loyal and brave and wise, and Honor wanted to do whatever he could to protect the goodness in Kydin because he could see how fragile it really was.

Kydin's fierceness could so easily shift into brutality. His loyalty could fade to spite. His bravery could mutate into recklessness. And his wisdom? Well. There was a fine line between wisdom and sheer sadistic cynicism and Kydin had been flirting with it for as long as Honor had known him.

Honor wasn't sure what the rest of the world saw when they looked at Kydin, but Honor saw an otter backed into a corner; he saw Kydin just barely hanging on, and Honor could tell that if the world kept pushing him, Kydin was going to just give the hell up. Honor was growing numb; he was losing his ability to be afraid. But the possibility of Kydin shifting from neutral to evil was very real and very terrifying. Kydin had always suffered a lot more than he had to simply because he chose to do things in something approaching an honorable way. He stole, but he did not murder. He killed, but he did not slaughter. If he ceased to play by whatever moral rules he had, he could be damn near unstoppable.

And Honor...Honor wasn't sure he could ever kill Kydin.

He owed the otter his life multiple times over, and, really, if Kydin ever decided that morality just wasn't worth it, Honor wasn't completely sure he would disagree.

The problem with being on Kydin's crew, Honor noticed, was that you got the near-irrepressible urge to follow Kydin straight into Hell if that's where the prince decided to lead.

Luke wasn't sure he'd ever seen an otter consume so much alcohol in his life. "Careful with that," the Redwall warrior advised. "Alcohol can kill you, you know."

"Oh, shuddup, Mousie." Kydin retorted, eying Luke out of the corner of his eyes in a way that managed to suggest that he was infinitely disappointed in the mouse. "Put your...put your party-face on."

"It _is_ poisonous in high doses, you know." Luke informed him with an arched brow.

"Oh, 'm not gonna get the...get the whatsits." Kydin paused, narrowed his eyes, and concentrated fiercely. "The...the alc'hol pois'ning."

"You," Luke said, "are entirely too drunk."

"And _you_," Kydin replied, "are ent'r'ly too s'ber."

"You can't even _enunciate_." Luke pointed out.

"Now, look here, mousie." Kydin said, suddenly serious. "I may not be able to enun...enunu...enununci..." He trailed off, swayed a little, and furrowed his brow as if in severe pain. "_Enunciate_!" He managed, grinned wide, and then blinked. Hesitated. "What were we t'lkin' about?"

"Someone put this otter to bed." Luke said, stepping back and shaking his head in disgust.

"I do believe that's his new wife's job." Aderyn commented serenely from a few paces away. Her eyes, when they settled on Riya, were sharp and cutting. "Although I must say, I've never seen a newlywed so incredibly intoxicated."

"Must not be havin' much to look forward to." Ladin said casually.

"Watch your mouth." Ark suggested helpfully. "You wouldn't want to turn this pleasant little reception into a brawl, would you?"

"You threatenin' to hit me, Ark?" Ladin inquired. He was, apparently, a bit of an antagonistic drunk.

"Repeatedly." Ark snapped back, who was entirely too sober due to the fact that, as Lead Guard, he was forbidden to drink more than a glass of wine in one day.

"Oy." Kydin complained, swaying so violently that only Luke's superior reflexes managed to keep him from toppling completely. "No figh'in'."

"He needs _sleep_." Luke snapped, his patience apparently wearing thin as he forced the newly crowned pirate lord to his feet and steadied him with nothing like gentleness.

"We _all_ need sleep." Riya said.

"Don't you tell me what I need." Ladin glared at her, mouth twisted into an ugly frown. "Matter o' fact, don't tell me anythin' at all. You may be my new queen, but I don't like you. You're an manipulative, cold-hearted, power-mad she-otter, and I, for one-"

"Will be going home now." Nidal interrupted. His voice was quiet but vaguely amused. When he looked at Riya, it wasn't with sympathy.

"Will I?" Ladin asked, frowning at his twin in confusion.

"Yes." Nidal informed him. "You're drunk, brother."

"Well, so is everybody else." Ladin argued sullenly, but, when Nidal's hand came to rest on his shoulder and steered him out of the room, he didn't object.

The rest of the less-than-cheerful celebrators took this as their cue to leave. Aderyn and Carden were out the door after sending unpleasant glances Riya's way, and Zai followed closely at their heels. Luke gave Riya a tight smile that wasn't friendly but at least wasn't openly belligerent and was on his way as well. Only Honor and Ark remained, and they stood there in silence, watching.

"Where'd ev'rybuuudy go?" Kydin asked, perplexed.

"Home." Riya said, staring at Kydin as if she weren't at all sure what to do with him and wasn't sure she even wanted to be near him. "They went to bed."

"W'ndrous idea." Kydin said. "Think I'll go, too."

"Hm." Riya said. "I'll stay up a bit longer, I think."

"Goo' fer you." Kydin said and trundled off towards the door.

Ark frowned, glancing between the two, and Honor straightened. "I'll go with him." He offered. "Stay with the queen. She's the one that you need to run your little island."

"Tha's mighty bitter, youngun." Ark said, his tone approaching reproachful. "Riya didn't create the situation."

"No." Honor said, his tone cold because even though he had no quarrel with Riya, she was still breaking the heart of the creature that was closest to family that Honor had. "She just capitalized on it."

Riya's shoulders were up and back, but they trembled. Tired already, then. Worn out from their burden. Well, Honor felt no pity for her. _She'd_ chosen it. _She'd_ gone after the crown. All Honor's sympathy went to Kydin.

He turned his back on her without a word and hurried to catch up with the prince, who was still stumbling determinedly down the hallway, one paw braced against the stone wall to supply the balance he sorely lacked.

"Kydin." Honor said, hurrying to offer an arm. "Kydin, slow down. You're going to fall."

"Been fallin'." Kydin retorted. "Been fallin' all my life."

Honor snorted and pulled Kydin's free arm over his shoulders, half-carrying Kydin down the hallway. "Oh, very poetic." He said dryly.

"Like tha', did yuuu?" Kydin seemed to be losing control over both his tongue and his lips. Neither were acting like he planned. "Got more." He added suddenly, cheerfully. "Me 'eart is a bo'quet of wivered penguins, and I...somethin'."

"Beautiful." Honor said approvingly. "You should write it down. Sell it to the masses. Everyone could use such a ray of poetic enlightenment in the dark and dreary lives."

"Nuu." Kydin denied, exhaling gustily. "Gotta whore...whore..._hoard_ it." He paused, grinning triumphantly at having found the right word after two missteps. "Cuz, y'know, everyone's a'ways takin'. Gotta...gotta save _s'methin'_."

"Save yourself." Honor said, because he knew Kydin wouldn't remember this in the morning. And, hell, if you had to have a moment of weakness, when you rooted for what was wrong simply because it would hurt less, why not have it when no one would remember and it didn't really matter? "Gods, Kydin. Just save yourself. Just get the hell _away_."

"Can't." Kydin said, suddenly solemn. "M'rried Riya. Gotta do righ' by her or-or she'll kill me dead."

Which was probably true. She probably would. So Honor just sighed and shrugged a little and kicked open the door to Kydin's new room.

It was about as ridiculously opulent as you would expect for the bedroom of pirate royalty, and Honor found himself wondering who really needed a bed that big. But he didn't ask and he didn't say anything when Kydin fell face-first into the sheets, kicked at them until they were all on the floor, and sprawled out on the multitude of pillows.

"Better to sleep on your stomach." Honor advised. "Or you'll choke on your vomit."

Kydin snorted and shot Honor a look that said quite plainly that he _knew_ that. "Who's the dr'nk'rd?" He asked, somehow managing to slur the word so completely that he obliterated the vowels. "You or me?"

Honor sighed. He had a point. "Fine, but, if you die..."

"I'll have bigger pr'blems then you bein' a bit annoyed." Kydin said, sounding a great deal more sober than he had for hours. He rolled over onto his stomach, grabbed a spare pillow, and chunked it at Honor's head. "Now, leave a pirate king to his sleep, aye?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow morning." Honor pointed out. "With Luke."

Kydin propped himself up on his elbows and snarled at Honor. "I _tol'_ you-"

"It's my life, Kydin." Honor said, lifting his chin. "I'll waste it if I please."

Kydin glared at him for a very long time, eyes narrowed and lips pulled back to bare teeth. But he didn't say anything. After a long pause heavy with everything that could have been said, Kydin just let his head fall back onto the pillows and mumbled, "So it is."

Honor blinked. He'd been ready for a fight. He'd wanted...maybe he'd wanted Kydin to convince him to do something else. But Kydin was right. It was Honor's life, and it was Honor's choice, and Honor wasn't sure what to do now that Kydin had finally decided to recognize that.

"Goodbye, Kydin." Honor said, quietly to hide all the bitterness and disgust and sorrow he felt.

"'s not." Kydin slurred defiantly. "We'll see each other again, mate." And when he looked up, there was hope in his eyes, and Honor felt as if someone had punched him brutally in the stomach. Because Kydin? Kydin had never _hoped_. He knew or he doubted. He was never vulnerable enough to _hope_. "Someday."

"Maybe." Honor said, nodding but not believing. "Maybe."

And Honor turned his back on Kydin and he walked away.

In the end, half of Kydin's crew left to go with Luke. Zai, Carden, and Honor left Shray with full intentions of never, ever returning. Aderyn, Ladin, and Nidal stayed and planned to for awhile longer, but it was clear in their eyes and in their promises to look after Kydin as best as they could that they couldn't stand to see him this way. In the end, they all left him. Even Vix, who had disappeared from the ship shortly after landing and hadn't been seen since. But Zai, Carden, and Honor were the first and that was the reason, perhaps, that they barely made eye-contact throughout the entire voyage.

They had made their way up a lake in Mossflower and were standing on the deck, preparing to disembark, when Honor got the suddenly urge to run. To get away. To be _free_. And it wasn't so much an urge as a need and when Honor thought of Redwall and all the politeness and pacifism he'd been looking forward to, he nearly vomited over the side of the ship.

"Luke." He said suddenly, his voice loud and clear. "I'm not going to Redwall."

Luke frowned, looking at him. "What d'you mean, Honor? We're already here."

"I'm not." Honor said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I...can't."

"Did Kydin put you up to this?" Luke asked, sighing. "Honor, anything he said on that island can't be trusted. He was drunk the entire _time_."

Honor bristled. "I'm not some mindless _puppet_, Luke. I can make my own decisions."

Luke blinked, surprised by the attack. "Of course you can." He said carefully. "I just don't understand. We've come all the way _here_."

"And you can still go. You _should_ go. But I've got other places to be. I've got...I've got things to do, Luke."

"Like _what_?"

Honor's paws gripped the railing tight, and he tried to keep from screaming at the mouse that, sometimes, there were just things you had to do, that you didn't have a choice about, that he didn't want to _talk_ about this. "I just need to be alone for awhile. I need...to figure things out."

Luke paused, frowned. "If this is about Cyma-"

"It's none of your business if it is." Honor snapped because, of course, it _was_. It was about how someone good and cheerful and rebellious could be dispatched so easily. It was about how love couldn't save you, not even if it was true. It was about how you could be innocent and how that didn't matter at all. It was about injustice and unfairness. It was about how, maybe, Honor could keep what happened to Kydin from happening to somebody else.

Luke sighed. "Grief is easier to fight if you're not fighting it alone."

"Spare me your idioms, Luke." Honor retorted but with little bite in his voice. "I know what I'm doing. And I'm not going to Redwall."

Luke stared at him, eyes thoughtful and mouth frowning, and then, suddenly, he turned away. "Fine." He said. Without another word, he turned and headed below decks, and Honor's jaw worked and then clenched shut tight. Was he so easy to abandon, then? Was Luke not even going to say _goodbye_?

But the mouse returned within the next five minutes, looking faintly out of breath and wielding a map. "I thought," he said, "I thought you might do this."

Honor glanced at it, frowning. "A...map?" He asked.

"Back to Redwall." He unrolled the parchment, and Honor's eyes were drawn immediately to the sketch of the abbey in the very center.

But the map was large, detailing a great distance, and there were holes in spots that Honor knew without asking were places Luke had never been. It was meticulously drawn up. It was well-worn. It had the feel of some treasured artifact, and Honor looked up at Luke with a questioning frown on his face. "You've had this for a long time." He said, and, a season ago, it would have been a question. Two seasons ago, it would have been nothing more than an idea lurking in the back of his mind. But recently Honor had learned to trust his gut and it had yet to let him down.

Luke lifted one shoulder, not even trying to deny it. "I don't need it anymore."

And there was distance between them that wasn't there ten minutes ago. Honor realized, distantly, bemusedly, that Luke is looking at him differently, and it occurred to him that Luke was seeing him as an equal now. He blinked, swallowed down the last faint cries of the cub inside him that wanted to be coddled and protected and looked after, and nodded deeply.

"Come back someday, Honor." Luke told him, and it had nothing of Kydin's fragile hope. This was a statement, a declaration. But for all its certainty, it was just as weak and just as vulnerable, and it didn't hold Honor.

Nothing did, anymore. He was breaking free, severing ties, and it had only taken the death of two families before he finally decided to grow the hell up.

He smiled at Luke, took the map, and then he left.

It took him three hours to notice there was a note on the back of the map Luke had given him, and another four before he felt prepared to read it.

'_I don't know why you won't go with us. You'll never find redemption for a crime you didn't commit. But once you're done with all this idiocy, come to Redwall. It is-has always been-a home for those who've lost theirs. It's where you belong now._'

And below the message, a flower. It was sketched quickly, but Honor recognized it. A white Zinnia. It was the flower that stung him, and it was because of the flower that he very nearly tore the map to shreds and tossed the remnants to the ground. A white Zinnia meant "thinking of an absent friend," and Honor had lost so many friends lately that he couldn't even decide which one's ghost he was so damn intent on avoiding.

But he didn't harm the map. Instead he folded it up carefully and neatly placed it in his pack. He was too old now for petty fits of emotion. He set his shoulders, tilted up his chin, and set off into the world to see what help he could offer it.

And if he had trouble sleeping that night, if he stared up at the stars with bloodshot eyes that were only dry out of sheer force of will, if he missed Kydin and Cyma and Luke so much that his lungs ached with the effort to keep from screaming out their names, well...it wasn't like there was anyone around to notice.

The good thing about being lonely, Honor decided, was that no one else would ever know.


	14. Epilogue

Kydin stood out on the balcony, peering out at the flickering lights of Shray. Of his capital. The sounds of revelry were muted here but not entirely. His subjects were a rowdy bunch, especially now that Ark had cleaned the streets of all those who had once followed Hikin. His subjects, his capital…

Kydin finished the bottle of well-aged wine and threw it off the balcony, listening to the beautiful shatter.

He reached for the next one and noticed the cork was still in it.

"Would you like me to take care of that, sire?"

Kydin's eyes rolled over to the Guard standing nearby, staring at the newly crowned pirate king in bland helpfulness. "So, you…" Kydin said, his mouth tripping the slightest bit over the words, drawing them out, cutting them short. "You're completely loyal to me, aye?"

"So tradition dictates." The Guard said in a wonderful impression of complete apathy. But Kydin saw it. Saw the unease flickering in the young ferret's eyes.

Saw it. Recognized it. Analyzed it.

"So if I…" He tilted his head, eyes burning holes into his subordinate's soul. "So if I told you to kill yer mother?"

The unease grew, boiled. "My mother's dead, milord."

"Ah." Kydin nodded. "So which female is it that's got her claws in you?" His eyes narrowed, watching the Guard's eyes carefully. "Daughter?" He asked. "No, too young. Ah…sister? You got a sister?"

The Guard swallowed. "Yes, sire. I have a sister."

"Older or younger?"

"Younger."

"You close?"

"Yes, milord."

Kydin watched the horror and fear in the ferret's eyes, and he marveled. "And if I ordered you to kill her?"

No answer. He lifted his chin and something like desperation shone in his eyes.

"She'd die anyway, mate. If I got it into my head that your fetching young sister needed to die, she'd be killed by mornin'." He laughed, low and bitter. "Not even Riya could negate it. Not you, not anyone. This way, at least, you could kill her quick."

"You start getting power-mad, Kydin, and I'll kill you in your sleep." Riya voice was perfectly serene as she slipped out onto the balcony, her arrival accented by the hissing of fabric on stone.

Kydin twisted to look at her. Ever since being crowned, she'd been dressing like a female. Now, for instance, she wore a long, graceful gown of dark blue and white. A dainty silver circlet adorned with sapphires graced her brow, and a silver-and-sapphire necklace was wound tight around her throat.

Kydin absolutely hated it.

The clothing was wrong on Riya. On Cyma, he figured, he could have accepted it. He might have even appreciated it. But on Riya…it was unnatural. Ridiculous, even. She was like him, born to fight and laugh and revel, not dance and dine and play the diplomat.

"Ah, Riya," he greeted her with a salute of his still-unopened bottle of wine, "my one and only false love."

"Leave us," Riya said sharply to the Guard, "before he gets it into his head that your sister really _does_ need killing."

Wordless, regretless, the Guard left.

"Kydin." Riya said, approaching him. "Have you gone _mad_?"

In reply, Kydin shattered the top of the wine bottle against the stone banister. Valuable aged wine splashed out, and glass splinters rained around their paws. Kydin lifted the ragged bottle to his lips and drank deep, tasting his own blood tainting the alcohol as the jagged glass tore his lips to shreds.

He told himself he liked the pain because it was the only thing the left in the world that he could really feel. And he drank until he couldn't breath, until a sword was hacking itself up from his lungs to his throat, until he thought he was going to pass out. Then, eyes closed, he lowered the bottle and ignored the slight tremble in his paws.

When he opened his eyes, tears were sparkling in Riya's eyes, all blue and silver from the jewelry she wore.

"You gonna cry, Riya?" Kydin asked, and his voice was soft and smooth, velvet over a razorblade. "You gonna cry for me?"

"No." Riya said, defiance in her voice, in her sneer, but not in her eyes, not in her tears. And when she blinked, the tears escaped her.

Kydin watched them, impassive and appreciative. He knew that these tears were precious, rarer than the gemstones that shone from her brow and throat. He knew that Hikin had always made a game of trying to make her cry, knew that Hikin wasn't the only one. He knew, and he felt something like pride.

And then, to drown the objections voiced by the last few tattered remnants of who he used to be, he drank again. Drank until he was drowning, until his brain screamed for air, begged for it. Drank until wine ran out of the corners of his mouth and he choked, spasming in pain and desperation.

Drank until the bottle was empty and so was he.

He let it fall, loved the noise of delicate glass exploding against harsh cliffs, and turned to Riya.

She was crying still, silently. Her eyes were dark with accusation and guilt, but she did not speak. She watched him, and something in her eyes reminded him of Cyma. Something in the way she looked at him reminded Kydin of how it felt to hold Cyma's paw as hard as he could and wish with all the strength he had and still be unable to keep her from slipping away.

"Oh, damn." He breathed and stepped forward, brushing the tears off her face. She didn't move, didn't breath. Just watched him. "Don't waste those on me, Riya. If you're gonna cry for anyone, cry for yourself. Your best friend's dead, remember?"

"No, Kydin." She said. "You were always my best friend. You were always my favorite."

And that hurt like hell, because Kydin supposed he'd always known. He was always _everyone's_ favorite. But he'd liked Vix best, because Vix kept him in line and because Vix understood. And then Cyma, because Cyma didn't understand but loved him all the same in a way that Vix didn't. Vix's love had been ever-present and unquestioned, like air. Cyma's love had been sunlight and stardust, everything he took for granted and everything he couldn't really live without. Not well. Not really.

And Riya…well, Riya had been many things. He'd been her crying shoulder; she'd been his punching bag. They'd fought and competed and laughed and schemed. Their bond was deep but neglected, and he supposed he'd always known that she loved him more than he loved her.

"Gods, Riya." He stepped away and moved to the banister, staring out at the city. He wanted to tell her how much he hated this, how much he wanted to just run _away_. He wanted to, but he didn't. Responsibility and restraint were two concepts he was currently being force-fed against his will, but he was learning, damn it. He was playing the good little king.

"Kydin…"

And he could feel it. She was about to apologize. About to beg his forgiveness. About to break.

"No, Riya. I got myself into this. I could've said no. I could've run away."

She moved to stand near him, unsure of how close she could get before he pushed her away. "If I had known you were going to burn your ship, I would have gone with you."

"I know." He said. "I wanted to go alone."

"I…I never would have asked you to do that." She said, and he could sense the battles she was fighting, felt the internal damage like it was his own.

"I had to." He said. "You think I'm gonna last here if I have any escape routes? You think I wouldn't've been back out on that ship within the week, sailin' away?" He laughed, cold and callus. "Nah, Riya. I had to burn 'er. Was the only way."

Riya stared at him. "You have to fight yourself?" She asked. "To stay here?"

"Aw, don't get upset yet." Kydin said with a slow, reckless grin. "You can start cryin' again the day I have to hide the knives from myself."

"It's that bad?" She asked, and she was breaking again, slowly cracking apart. "It's that bad here…?" _With me_ hung in the air, but she didn't say it, couldn't voice it.

Kydin sighed heavily and turned to look at her. In her eyes was everything keeping him here. Every friend, every loyal subject, every worshiping cub. And, in her eyes, was everything that made him want to run away. The sea, the freedom, the happiness.

He heard Cyma on the wind, whispering in quiet urgent tones, wishing him happiness and healing. He felt Vix in the stone beneath his feet, a once-warm connection grown cold and dead too quickly, too sharply. He sensed his father in the back of his mind, imparting words of wisdom that Kydin had never really understood until this moment.

And he knew Riya was breaking, but he was already broken. And he couldn't hold her together, he _couldn't_. He had nothing left, no strength and no empathy and no pride.

"Gods, Riya." He said, and he couldn't bring himself to care that his voice was so raw and vulnerable that his soul was practically laid-bare to the world. "Help me."

"What?" She asked, turning to him, eyes concerned and bloodshot.

"Help me." He said. "I've been drinking for days, and it isn't getting better. I've fought, I've killed, I've bled. I can't stop...I can't stop _remembering_." He took a deep breath. "Just...gods. Just _help_ me."

And he reached over and looped his arm around her neck, pulling her closer. She hesitated a moment and then moved towards him, and the bitter defeat radiated from both of them perfectly for that one brief instant, sharp and bright.

Riya glanced up at him and then away, and she was fighting back tears again. In an attempt to hide her tears, she let her head fall, resting her brow on his shoulder. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and he pretended not to hear the way it caught in her throat.

Instead, he pulled the circlet off her head and threw it off the banister, down to the shattered glass of a half dozen wine bottles, where it belonged. He paused for a few seconds, staring out at Shray. Then he too had to hide from the world, resting his head against hers and closing his eyes.

But the comfort rang of wrongness because no matter how much they clung to the idea that their marriage was a lie, that they were just friends who happened to share a bedroom, they both knew their little lie of theirs was beginning to develop a ring of truth. Because the masses were already demanding a male heir, to provide protection from this kind of chaos. Because it was impossible to fake love without the ideas leaking in, poisoning the mind. Because they were both grieving and wounded and alone.

Because they were stuck together til death, and Riya had learned early in life to make the best of things, to accept, to take whatever opportunity presented itself.

Kydin was the dreamer. Kydin was the one who still woke with the scent of the sea and the sound of the waves. If there was any hope of avoiding the hellish mess of a romance that was already stirring, it lay in Kydin.

But the world had been piling weight on Kydin's shoulders for days, for seasons, for a lifetime.

And the burden had finally, _finally_, become too much for Kydin to bear alone.


End file.
